


MX2

by Jojora



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Youtuber RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Platonic Relationships, Secrets, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:02:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 50,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojora/pseuds/Jojora
Summary: Ethan is secretly taking a designer drug, but how long can he keep it from Mark?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 285
Kudos: 575





	1. Chapter 1

Being a popular YouTuber was weird. Ethan didn’t feel famous, by any means. He was not going to red carpet events or being followed around by paparazzi. He didn’t live in a big mansion or ride around in limos or have crews of people working on his content. No, he lived in a townhouse with a roommate and he operated his own equipment and stayed up late editing his own videos to post them online. It was not a very glamorous life.

But he did have fans. His name was known to some extent, in some circles. And that was weird.

It was weird that there were millions of people out there, keeping an eye on his life. Paying attention to everything he put online. Reading into his tweets, and his off-hand comments in videos, and who he was or was not following on social media. Gossiping about him. Creating threads about him and speculating about his dating life, his friendships, his mental health. 

Ethan was grateful, of course. This attention allows him to do what he loves for a living. Plus, his fans are cool. They are funny and creative and caring. But it was still weird to live your life like that, always under a microscope. And sometimes, it got into his head. 

Lately, he’d been feeling kind of insecure. He’d been spending too much time reading comments and threads about himself on the internet. He’d read a few too many comments about his ADHD and it bugged him. It seemed to be what everyone always wanted to talk about. His ADHD, or his friendship with Mark. Surely Ethan was more than that? 

He was creative and talented and hard-working, right? He had trained and practiced his comedy and improv and studied how to make good content and worked his way up. It was hard work and skill that had gotten him to where he was. He had earned his success, hadn’t he? He was more than just his ADHD symptoms and backflip kid. That’s what he kept trying to tell himself.

But sometimes, it really felt like he lived in Mark’s shadow and that people didn’t take him seriously enough. They didn’t see him as a real entertainer, they just wanted to make memes out of him. 

Maybe that was how he ended up here, in this dude’s basement. A friend of a friend had made the connection for him. Told him that this guy, Jeremy, was the collaboration he needed. Ethan didn’t know who he was. He was not a successful YouTuber and Ethan could find nothing about him online. But Ethan’s friend had promised that this would be life-changing for him, so Ethan had tried to ignore the fact that it sounded slightly suspicious and had accepted the appointment and ventured to Jeremy’s house. 

The basement office was well-lit with white tiled floor and white walls and a silver desk and some filing cabinets. There were several doors leading to other rooms. It was pretty professional looking, considering it was just the dude’s basement. Jeremy also looked very put together, not at all sketchy, which put Ethan’s mind at ease. He still had no idea what he was signing up for, but Jeremy was dressed in business casual clothes and had a relaxed vibe. 

“Alright, here’s how it goes,” Jeremy said, turning around in his office chair to face Ethan and putting some paperwork down on the desk between them. “This is the initial contract. First round is free. That will be your trial week. If you’re a good fit, we can negotiate a longer term deal.”

Ethan leaned forward in his own chair to look at the paperwork. It was a long contract and Ethan was not great about reading. “What exactly am I signing up for?” he asked instead. 

“MX2.” Jeremy replied, as if that was supposed to answer the question. Ethan just stared at him blankly.

Jeremy sighed. “Nobody told you?” Ethan shook his head. 

“MX2 is a designer drug, created to significantly enhance your mental and physical abilities.” Jeremy explained.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “A drug” he repeated dumbly. Ethan wasn’t exactly a stranger to drugs, given that he lived in L.A. and had been to his share of L.A. parties, but he also wasn’t really a drug user himself. Sure he drank occasionally and smoked weed, and maybe he had experimented with some other drugs once or twice, but that lifestyle really wasn’t for him. 

Jeremy just smiled. “Look, you’ve taken psychiatric medication, right?” he asked. 

Ethan nodded. 

“It’s kind of like that. It’s not heroin or anything. It just opens some extra doors in your brain and helps you function. But it’s very powerful. I guarantee you it can double your success, if not more. It is also very exclusive. We only take certain hand-picked clients.”

“Is it safe?” Ethan asked, suddenly very nervous.

“There are some side effects, and the come down isn’t fun. But yes, it is generally safe as long as you use it as directed.” Jeremy replied. 

Ethan swallowed thickly. He thought maybe he was being referred to a talent agency or a sponsorship of some sort. Not a drug dealer. But he was curious. And he wanted the success that Jeremy was promising. 

He reached for the contract. He tried to read it, but it was dense. The text was small and hard to understand and his nerves made focusing on the document even more difficult. Fuck it, he thought. 

“This contract is just for the first week?” he asked.

“It’s mostly about non-disclosure,” Jeremy replied. “Like I said, we’re pretty exclusive. By signing, you’re agreeing to keep this completely confidential. No telling anyone outside of this program anything about this. And I mean anyone.” 

Ethan hesitated for another second, and then nodded. “Okay,” he said, signing the document. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. This was so unlike him. But it was a free one-week trial, and he was fed up with his insecurity and his flaws. 

Jeremy smiled. “You won’t regret it,” he said. Then he took the paperwork and put it into a file, writing Ethan’s name at the top. He stood up and put it in one of the filing cabinets, and then pushed a small button on the wall, which Ethan hadn’t noticed before. 

A few seconds later, a woman came out of one of the doors. She had a small black box in her hands, which she set on the desk. “Ethan?” she asked.

Ethan nodded. 

“I’m Rebecca. I’m a nurse practitioner and you’re going to be on my caseload.” She smiled and stuck her hand out. Ethan shook it. He felt slightly better knowing that there was an actual medical professional involved in this. The sleek office and professional environment and now the presence of a doctor almost made Ethan forget that they were still just in Jeremy’s basement and that this was some underground operation, instead of just a regular medical appointment.

That is, until Rebecca pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to him, and he noticed that it was completely blank except for a phone number printed in the center of it. “That’s my number for you to call if you need to. I’ll be your point of contact, okay?” 

Ethan nodded again and pocketed the card. 

Then Rebecca reached for the black box and lifted the top open. Inside were seven shiny black rods. She pulled one out and pulled a cap off to reveal a small needle. It almost looked like Ethan’s epi-pen, except it was a uniform shiny black and much more sleek and compact.

“This is MX2,” Rebecca said, holding it up for Ethan to see. “You’ll administer one dose every day. It should last about 10 hours before the effects start to wear off. Like Jeremy said, the come down isn’t fun. You should expect to feel pretty fatigued at the end of the day. You might also feel headaches, nausea, irritability, depression, and difficulty concentrating. But the good news is, you can time your dose so that it starts to wear off at bed-time and then you can sleep through the side effects and take your next dose the following day. Many patients report minimal negative impact by doing it that way, and that the benefits far outweigh the side effects.” 

Ethan was very nervous, but he had already made up his mind. He was doing this. He deserved success. 

“Stand up and lift up your shirt,” Rebecca said. Ethan complied. 

Rebecca put her thumb and forefinger on Ethan’s skin and pulled the skin tight. “You’ll want to administer it on the lower torso,” she said. “Right above your hips, front or back or the sides, is all fine. I’d suggest picking a slightly different spot each day, because it will be sore and leave a bruise. Ready?” 

Ethan nodded. He tensed as Rebecca jammed the needle into his skin and pressed a small button at the other end of the pen. It burned. It felt like he was being injected with acid. It definitely hurt. Maybe a 6 on the pain scale. But the pain was gone as quickly as it had started, leaving just a dull soreness. Rebecca put pressure on the injection sight with her fingers and held it for a moment before replacing the cap on the pen and putting it back in the box. 

Almost immediately, Ethan felt different. It was like a fog had been lifted from his brain. Everything felt so much sharper. His senses were heightened and his anxiety had dissipated completely. He could hear his own breathing, could see small details on Rebecca’s face, could smell her perfume. But it wasn’t overwhelming. He did not feel sensory overload even though all of his senses had suddenly gone into overdrive. He felt calm and controlled. 

“You’ll bring the empty canisters back when you come back at the end of the week, and if you stay with the program, you’ll always bring them back when you pick up your next set.” 

Ethan nodded again. 

“Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” Ethan said, looking down and flexing his fingers in awe at how his brain perceived the motion, focusing on every detail. 

“Great! I will be in contact about your next appointment. Enjoy the week!” Rebecca said with a smile as she handed Ethan the box and led him to the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the storyline, I'm writing this in a world where covid-19 doesn't exist. Also I might use some of their video ideas that they've actually filmed and I might make some videos up and the real videos will not be in any sort of canonical order or necessarily go how they actually went.

Ethan was full of energy for the day. It wasn’t his normal hyperactive energy, though. He wasn’t bouncing off the walls or anything. He just didn’t get tired. He felt like he could go to the gym for hours and hours if he wanted. 

He was incredibly productive. He filmed and edited videos for his channel, and they were good videos. Maybe the best ones he’d filmed yet. He felt funny and charming and focused. Then he went to the gym and practiced some gymnastics. He landed everything perfectly. It was almost like he was flipping in slow motion, and he could calculate the exact force he needed to jump with and the angle he needed to land at. Then he went home and cleaned his entire house and cooked himself an exceptionally well-cooked meal. It was like he knew exactly what spices to add based off of what the food smelled like. 

MX2 made him feel superhuman. He was confident, he was smart, he was strong. He had a newfound control over his brain and body. 

As it started to get late, and the drug started to wear off, he definitely saw what Jeremy and Rebecca meant, though. It seems there was a price to pay for spending the entire day with your brain in such an extreme overdrive. While the world’s colors had seemed more vibrant all day, now everything seemed a little grey. He suddenly felt exhausted and a dull ache was forming between his eyes. Reluctantly, he dragged himself upstairs to bed. Still, the crash was worth it. That had to have been the best day Ethan had ever had.

He set his alarm and collapsed into bed. Tomorrow was a filming day with Mark. He fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

When he woke up, he still felt sluggish and hazy, but not as exhausted as the night before. He remembered Rebecca saying that he should time his doses so that he would crash around bed-time to sleep through the side effects, so he didn’t take his dose right away. He wanted it to last as long as possible. He showered, brushed his teeth, took Spencer out, and ate breakfast. He looked at the clock and his eyes widened. He had to be at Mark’s house soon. He was apparently moving kind of slow this morning. 

Trying to pick up his pace so he wouldn’t be late, he headed into the bathroom and pulled the small box out from under his sink where he had stored it. He grabbed one of the canisters and lifted his shirt. He noticed a pretty prominent bruise where yesterday’s dose had been injected, and chose to inject this one on the other side. Once again, it burned, but Ethan was excited for another day on MX2 and didn’t focus on the pain too much. The world became sharper again. He replaced the pen into the box and put the box away. Then he loaded Spencer in the car and made his way to Mark’s. 

“Hey man!” Mark greeted Ethan as he walked in, thankfully only a couple minutes late. 

“Morning!” Ethan said cheerfully, as Spencer ran off to greet Chica. 

They headed to Mark’s dining room to set up filming equipment. They had a few videos planned. First, they were going to do the traditional but always funny whisper challenge. Then they were going to do some origami thing. Finally, Mark had said something about an upside-down challenge, but Ethan had no idea what that meant. 

As the cameras started rolling for the videos, Ethan had some realizations about just how powerful the MX2 really was. He was learning more and more how much it enhanced everything he did. During the whisper challenge, he realized that even with the headphones on and playing music, he could hear Mark. He could separate out the sounds and choose to ignore the music and focus on Mark’s voice. Which was cool, but didn’t make for funny content. So he had to improvise and pretend he couldn’t hear. During the origami challenge, he whizzed through it and had built an impressive and original origami masterpiece in 10 minutes. He had skimmed through the book about origami folds and suddenly he just knew all of the techniques by memory. Meanwhile, Mark’s creation fell apart as he was showing it to the camera. Ethan played this up for content, bragging about how Mark had to call him “Origami Master” from now on and enjoying the role-reversal from when Mark always did everything better than Ethan.

They wrapped up filming the second video and Mark turned to Ethan. “Seriously, how the hell did you do that?” Mark asked. 

Ethan just smirked and shrugged. “I guess I’m just a natural at origami.” 

Mark shook his head and laughed. “You surprise me sometimes, man.” 

They took a break for lunch, and then it was time for the third video. 

“So what are we doing?” Ethan asked as Mark set up the space.

“Can’t tell you until we’re on camera,” Mark replied. “Get in the shot.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, but obeyed. Amy started rolling the camera and Mark introduced the video, explaining that they were going to see how long Ethan could hold a handstand for, while Mark threw things at him to try and make him lose his balance.

Ethan groaned playfully. “Maaaark” he whined. “That’s your video idea?"

“Yeah, man. It’s going to be great!” Mark said mischievously. 

Ethan sighed but got in position. He went into a handstand as Mark started the timer, but then he heard Amy say, “Wait, cut. Ethan, are you okay?” 

Confused, Ethan stood right side up again. “Yeah, why?”

“Your stomach is all bruised, dude!” Mark said, walking over to him. 

Ethan flinched back slightly as Mark reached for his shirt to get a closer look, but he knew it was too late to hide it. There were now two pretty prominent bruises, one on each side of his stomach, from his two doses. Ethan cursed himself for not realizing his shirt would fall when he was upside down. 

“Oh, yeah, I was practicing gymnastics and I slammed into the high bar,” he muttered, making up a lie on the spot. 

Mark was kneeling on the floor to inspect the bruises and looking up at him, and Ethan could tell from his subtle facial expressions that Mark was doubtful. Ethan thought it was a pretty good lie, considering he hadn't had time to think about it, but Mark was definitely concerned. He didn’t say anything about it, though.

“Maybe we should hold off on this video. I don’t want to throw things at you if you’re injured,” Mark said instead. 

“I’m fine, really,” Ethan said. “We can do the video.” 

“No, let’s call it a day,” Mark said, and the tone of his voice was oddly firm, making it clear that this was not up for debate. 

“Mark?” Ethan said cautiously. Mark’s sudden shift in mood was off-putting to Ethan. It was subtle, but he almost seemed upset.

Mark didn’t acknowledge it though. He just started packing up the video equipment. That was fine by Ethan. He honestly didn’t know what Mark was thinking, but if Mark wasn’t asking questions and Ethan didn’t have to come up with more lies, that was preferable. 

“Okay, cool,” Ethan muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m going to head out then?” 

Mark looked up at him, and Ethan could have sworn that Mark looked conflicted about something, but then Mark just nodded. 

“Yeah, see you later,” Mark said.


	3. Chapter 3

Ethan wracked his brain on the drive home, trying to figure out why that interaction with Mark was so weird. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he was reading into things too much. Mark hadn’t really done or said anything too out of the ordinary. But MX2 made Ethan able to very clearly focus on subtle changes in a person’s face and Ethan swore he saw a crease in Mark’s brow when Ethan lied about the bruises. Then he ended filming. Surely that meant something. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe Ethan was paranoid. 

Here’s what Ethan knew for a fact: there was no way that Mark saw two bruises on Ethan and suddenly deduced that Ethan was on some top-secret superhuman drug. That just was not a natural conclusion to draw off of some bruises. So even if Mark suspected that Ethan had lied, there was no reason to believe that he was onto the truth. 

But it was still weird. What was Mark thinking? Ethan felt like he needed to know. He needed to keep MX2 secret and in order to do that, he needed to get ahead of this. 

There was nothing he could do about it right now, though, so after dropping Spencer off at home he headed to the gym. He was determined to put the MX2 to good use, and the energy it gave him meant he could get a really good workout in. 

When he got back to the gym locker after his workout and pulled out his phone, he had a text from Mark.

“Sorry for being weird.” 

Ethan frowned at the message. So he _was_ being weird. But this text only made things weirder and it gave Ethan no indication of what Mark was thinking. At least it was an opening for Ethan to try and find out. 

“Yeah, what was that about?” Ethan texted back. 

“Just want to make sure you’re okay.” The response came back in seconds. 

Ethan was even more confused. 

“I’m fine…” Ethan replied. Then, still wanting to know what Mark was thinking, he followed it up with another text. “Why would you think I’m not?”

The dots popped up to show that Mark was typing, but then disappeared again. Ethan waited. Mark started typing again. 

“Idk it just seemed like you were really jumpy about the bruises and you seemed kind of off all day today. Not your usual silly self. I didn’t want to pry but I am here to listen if you want to talk about anything.” 

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. Mark didn’t seem to know anything at all. Ethan just had to get better about being discreet, because he was apparently not a very good liar, even on MX2.

“Thanks, but I really am fine,” he replied back. 

“Okay. Want to take a road trip with me on Saturday? I could use a break.” 

“Sounds fun.” Ethan felt like this road trip was more about Mark still being worried about Ethan than anything else, but he wasn’t opposed to a mini-vacation.

Ethan got in his car and drove home, where he immediately went and got Rebecca’s business card and called her.

“Hey, I need to know how to avoid these bruises because I have to take my shirt off a lot for my work.” Ethan said as soon as she answered. 

Rebecca laughed. “Yeah, we’ve noticed.”

Ethan frowned. Did that mean she had watched his videos?

“You can also inject it into your thigh muscles, but it will hurt more. And it still won’t help for all the times you get naked for the internet.” 

Yep. She had definitely watched his videos. “How do you know about that?” he asked. 

“Ethan, we told you. We’re very exclusive. Of course we look into our potential clients before bringing them onto the project.” 

“Right.” Ethan muttered. “Okay, thanks.” 

He hung up the phone. He suddenly felt slightly uncertain about what he had gotten himself into.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day was another great one. Ethan took this third dose in the thigh, as recommended. Rebecca was not lying about the pain. Ethan actually yelped when he pushed the button on the canister, and had to bite down on his hand to keep from screaming and alerting Kathryn. His whole leg muscle seized up and it took much longer for the pain to fade. Apparently that was the price he had to pay for this miracle drug. 

He accomplished quite a lot in terms of work, and then decided he was going to play his ukelele. That’s when he discovered that MX2 also greatly improved his musical abilities. He already liked playing music, but it was like he suddenly had perfect pitch. He spent the rest of the afternoon experimenting with his brain, learning more about the wonders of the drug. It improved his memory ten-fold. He could read things really quickly and remember everything he had just read. In the past he had always struggled with math, but now he found he could do complicated math equations in his head. Overall, he felt incredible. Like he could literally do anything. 

The comedowns weren’t great, but as soon as he felt it coming, he would curl up in bed and sleep it off. 

Then it was Saturday. Ethan groaned as his alarm went off at 4am. He had agreed to go on this weekend trip with Mark, just to take a break for a couple of days, but he was not sure why they had to leave so damn early. Pulling himself out of bed this early was torture and he did not feel good. Mornings were already getting harder because his body was in a state of MX2 withdrawal overnight, but 4am made it so much worse. 

He felt nauseous and he had a splitting headache. Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he looked as bad as he felt. He had bags under his eyes and he looked pale and sickly. He didn’t want to take his dose yet. It only lasted 10 hours, so if he took it now, he would crash in the middle of the afternoon. But he felt truly terrible. 

He showered and felt like he was going to pass out just from standing in the shower. He got out and wrapped a towel around himself before he sat down on the bathroom floor, putting his head on his knees to try and stop the world from spinning. 

His phone buzzed and he groaned. He groped around for it and answered it from where he was sitting. “Hello?” he muttered in a tired voice.

“Hey! I’m at your front door and you aren’t answering. Are you ready to head out?” Mark asked. 

Ethan frowned. Mark wasn’t supposed to get here until 5:30. He had woken up at 4 to have time to pack and shower and get ready, and he could have sworn he had only put his head down for a few seconds. But looking at his clock on his phone, it read 5:36. How had he lost an hour and a half of time? 

“Sorry, be down in a second,” Ethan said as he hung up the phone. He slowly pulled himself up to standing and swayed slightly on his feet. Still, he threw on a t-shirt and some jeans and went downstairs as quickly as he could to open the door for Mark. 

“I’m running a bit behind, overslept,” he muttered to Mark as he let him in. “Still gotta pack real quick. Sorry!” 

Mark frowned at him. Ethan knew he looked like a hot mess so he wasn’t surprised that Mark was looking at him like that, but Ethan didn’t stop to look at him. He was already heading back to the stairs. 

“Yeah man, no worries,” Mark said. “Take your time.” 

Ethan went back upstairs, grabbing a duffel bag and throwing some clothes into it haphazardly. Then he went into the bathroom to grab his toiletries. He reached under the bathroom sink and pulled out the black box. He grabbed 3 doses, enough to last him for the weekend trip, and wrapped them in a sock and stuffed it in his bag. He really wanted to take today’s dose now to make this awful withdrawal feeling go away, but he knew he had to wait at least a few more hours. 

He zipped up the bag and headed back downstairs, but he stumbled on the last few steps and fell, landing on his hands and knees

“You alright?” Mark asked, rushing over to help.

Ethan nodded but the world was spinning and, even though Mark was trying to help him up, he couldn’t stand back up yet. “Give me a second” he sighed, sinking to a sitting position on the floor. He brought his hand up to rub his forehead. He was really dizzy. 

Mark sat down too and eyed Ethan curiously. Ethan knew he was going to have to come up with an explanation for this eventually, but luckily, Mark wasn’t asking any questions right now.

Ethan took a couple of breaths while the world stopped spinning, and then he started to stand up again. 

“Ethan,” Mark started, but Ethan waved him off. 

“I’m fine,” Ethan muttered. “Just still half-asleep, apparently.” 

Mark didn’t say anything. He just grabbed Ethan’s duffle bag and led them out to the car. 

They mostly drove in silence, which Ethan appreciated because his head was throbbing. Mark pulled through a drive-thru for breakfast, but Ethan felt nauseous, so he didn’t order anything. He just muttered something about how it was “too early for food” and threw in a “I hate you for this, you know” to try and make light of the situation. Mark laughed at it, which was a good sign that maybe he wasn’t aware of how much Ethan was dying internally. 

Ethan didn’t even know where they were going, just that it was a long drive, which is why Mark made them leave so early. Around 9am, Ethan asked if they could stop somewhere soon for a bathroom break. He had been dozing in and out of sleep as Mark drove, but his head still ached and he really wanted his dose so that he could start to feel normal again. 

Mark obliged and pulled them into a gas station. As Mark got out of the car to pump gas, Ethan reached into the back seat and grabbed his bag. As subtly as he could, he pulled out one of the canisters and shoved it in his pocket, stashing the sock away again. Then he got out and headed into the convenience store bathroom. 

Ethan put his fist in his mouth and bit down on it as his other hand injected the dose into his thigh. The moment the injection went in, he felt the familiar mix of pain and relief. It burned intensely and his leg muscles seized up again as his eyes watered, but the world became sharp and clear as his headache disappeared and his energy levels immediately went up. His appearance even seemed to change in the mirror. He looked more full of life. He felt amazing. 

Leaving the bathroom, his appetite was back, so he bought some coffee and breakfast from the convenience store and headed back out to the car. 

“How much further are we going?” Ethan asked as Mark started the car again. 

“Almost there,” Mark said. “Glad to see someone is finally waking up.” 

Ethan rolled his eyes and bit into his breakfast sandwich.


	5. Chapter 5

When they arrived at their destination, it turned out to be a really nice resort. 

“Fancy,” Ethan muttered as they pulled the car into the valet area. 

“It’s a vacation! We should enjoy it!” Mark replied. 

“It’s a vacation, we should enjoy it…” Ethan mocked. 

Mark glared at him, but Ethan’s super attention to detail on MX2 meant that he could clearly see the curve of a small smile on Mark’s lips. 

The valet guy came over to grab their bags and carry them to the room. Ethan internally had a heart attack at anyone taking his bag out of his sight, but there was no way for him to stop it without making things way more suspicious so he tried to ignore the panic. 

Mark went to check them in and Ethan looked around at the place. It was really nice. He could not believe Mark had just spontaneously booked this for the weekend.

Mark came back over to him and handed him a room key. They were staying in a private suite that was separate from the main resort. It was huge and really nicely decorated. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a living room, and a private pool. Ethan started to wonder how much money Mark had spent on this adventure, but he didn’t ask. 

Their bags were already waiting for them in the living room. Ethan rushed over to grab his. “Which room is mine?” he asked. 

“Take your pick,” Mark said as he explored the kitchen cabinets. 

Ethan went into one of the bedrooms and quickly checked his bag to make sure his MX2 was still there. It was. He debated carrying it with him but decided that was probably less safe than leaving it where it was. 

Ethan returned to the living room, where Mark was now looking out the sliding glass doors at the pool. 

“Mark?” Ethan asked in a slightly serious tone. Now that he was on MX2 and his senses were all heightened, he decided to try and get a better read on Mark’s mindset. 

Mark turned to look at Ethan.

“This is really nice, Mark, but what are we doing here?”

“We’re recharging! It’s an Unus Annus bonding retreat.” 

“Okay, but when you said a weekend trip I was thinking something a little bit more casual. This is really expensive!” Ethan protested. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Mark said dismissively.

“Maaaark,” Ethan whined. 

Mark just laughed. Ethan still was suspicious about what Mark was thinking, but Mark was not letting him in on anything voluntarily. Ethan was going to have to be more direct about it, but he didn’t know how without raising more suspicions instead of quashing the ones that already existed. So he dropped it for now. 

“Well what are we supposed to do now?” Ethan asked. 

Mark grinned and pointed at a booklet on the coffee table. It had all the different activities they could do here. Ethan had to admit, he was excited about having access to some of these activities where he could continue to explore his abilities on MX2. They created an agenda for the day and headed out. 

The day was fun. They took a painting class in the morning and a culinary class at lunchtime. They followed that up with some mountain biking. Ethan completely excelled at everything they tried. He did try to downplay it to make it seem like he was struggling as much as Mark was. He intentionally made his painting look way worse than what he was capable of, but he loved how his brain worked on MX2 and he knew that if he did it at his full capacity it would have been amazing. When it came to the culinary class, he went full out. The chef who taught the class was even amazed at his dish. When they went mountain biking, he never got tired. He truly felt superhuman.

However, it was not too long after dinner that Ethan felt his energy start to wane and the world’s colors start to dull. He knew it was coming. He had taken his pill around 9am, so his ten hours was coming to a close. He normally would go to bed as soon as it started to wear off, in order to sleep through the brunt of the negative side effects, but he figured it would look pretty odd to Mark if Ethan went to bed at 7pm. So he decided to make himself a cup of coffee and try to ignore it for now. After all, it wasn’t that bad right now. Definitely not as awful as he had felt this morning. 

Besides, he felt pretty relaxed and was enjoying the moment. The air had chilled and Ethan was in a cozy grey hoodie, sitting by the fire pit next to their pool with his mug of coffee. Mark was soaking his feet in the hot tub across the yard and talking to Amy on the phone. Sure, Ethan’s head was starting to feel that familiar dull ache, and he was tired, but he did not feel terrible. Maybe he could get a couple more hours out of his day. 

Mark said goodnight to Amy and stood up to come join Ethan at the fire.

“Did you have fun today?” Mark asked as he sat down.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for this, Mark. I needed the break.” Ethan answered sincerely. 

“Good,” Mark smiled. “There’s a show tonight that I was thinking we could go to. It looks pretty cool.” 

Ethan let out an involuntary yawn. “Mm. I don’t know if I can stay awake for it, someone made me wake up at 4am.” 

Mark laughed, but Ethan wondered if it seemed a bit forced. But maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he was just so nervous about getting caught that he was reading into every interaction he had with Mark. 

They sat and chatted for a bit about everything they had done that day and the conversation seemed pretty normal. They were joking around with each other and it was nice. But Ethan’s headache was growing steadily worse and his attention started to drift from the conversation at times. That wasn’t anything new, Mark was used to Ethan never being able to focus on anything for too long. However, Ethan was also becoming more and more uncomfortable overall. He shifted a little to rest his head on the back of his chair and looked at the time on his phone. It was only 7:45. Not a reasonable bedtime, and he doubted he would be able to sleep anyway with the caffeine he had just consumed. He would have to push through it. He started to shiver, despite the heat from the fire. 

“Ethan?” Mark’s voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you want to go inside? We can put on a movie or something?” 

Ethan nodded, grateful for the suggestion. He wasn’t sure if it was actually getting really cold out or if this was another side effect of MX2 withdrawal, but the warmth of indoors sounded like a great idea. 

Mark put out the fire and they shuffled inside. Ethan immediately curled up on one side of the couch under a warm blanket as Mark flipped through movie options. The caffeine was keeping Ethan awake, but man, his head really hurt now and his mood was quickly sinking.

Ethan didn’t even really pay attention to whatever movie Mark chose. He just stared at the screen and pretended to watch. He started to feel pretty depressed and terrible. He had never really had to deal with the full extent of withdrawal symptoms before today. He’d always slept through them. Sure, that meant his days had been shorter recently, but considering he accomplished 7 times as much stuff and felt so great, 10 hours in a day was more than enough. 

He suddenly felt nauseous. He tried to breathe through it, but soon became convinced he was going to be sick. 

“Be right back,” he muttered to Mark as he got up to excuse himself to the bathroom. 

“Do you want me to pause the movie?” Mark called after him, but Ethan just shook his head as he headed towards his room and the bathroom it was connected to. 

He had barely closed the door before he got sick in the toilet. He felt dizzy again, similar to how he had felt this morning. But he couldn’t stay in here long or Mark would get suspicious, so he forced himself to stand back up. He rinsed out his mouth in the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked pale and tired again. He just wanted to lie down in bed. But he made himself go back out to the living room to finish the movie. 

Mark glanced at him briefly as he came back out, but didn’t say or do anything to indicate that he noticed anything. He just turned back to the movie as Ethan curled up under the blanket again. 

By the time the movie ended, Ethan stared at the credits rolling past and felt like he could barely lift his head. He knew Mark was looking at him, though.

“Ethan, hey, are you still awake?” Mark asked. 

Ethan used whatever energy he had left to sit up and nod. He ran a hand through his hair before he realized how badly his hand was trembling and quickly moved to hide it. 

This time, Ethan watched Mark’s eyes linger on his hand as he lowered it. _Mark definitely noticed that,_ Ethan thought. 

But Mark still did not comment on it. “It’s been a long day,” Mark said instead. “I think I’m about ready for bed.”

Ethan nodded, eternally grateful for Mark’s tact. “G’night” he mumbled as he slowly got up to head to his own room.

But as Ethan took a few steps, his vision went dark and he collapsed to the floor. He heard a faint “Ethan!” as he fell. 

He didn’t fully pass out, though, and he was already fully conscious again by the time Mark got to him and kneeled down. 

“Hey, hang on,” Mark said, reaching for Ethan as Ethan started to sit up again. Ethan ignored him and pushed his hand away.

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Tripped.” He was frustrated with his body for giving out on him like that when he was so close to getting to bed and now he had something else to try and explain away. The frustration was evident in his voice, too, because Mark didn’t challenge him.

“Fine, but let me help you,” Mark said instead as he guided Ethan back up on his feet. 

Honestly, Ethan didn’t have the strength to refuse Mark’s help. He felt dizzy as he stood up.

“You good?” Mark asked. 

Ethan just nodded, silently begging Mark to drop it. He felt defeated and exhausted and did not have the ability to come up with any reasonable way to explain how bad he probably looked right now. God, he felt awful. He almost regretted ever taking this drug, but also couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s dose to make him feel superhuman again. 

“Goodnight,” Ethan mumbled, trying to signal to Mark that he wanted to be left alone. 

“Okay, goodnight,” Mark said as he went to turn off the TV. Ethan made his way to his room and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

Ethan woke up the next morning, still feeling bad, but not nearly as bad. This was the kind of morning he was used to with this drug. He felt slow and hazy, but nothing extreme. Just like a semi-bad hangover. He made a mental note about avoiding 4am in the future. As long as he could sleep through the worst of the withdrawal, things weren’t so bad. But a long day like he had tried yesterday was clearly a bad idea. It was a learning process.

He looked at the clock. It was almost 10am. Mark had apparently let him sleep in. 

Ethan decided to wait on his next dose, because things were tolerable right now and he wanted to get the timing right this time. If he waited just another hour, his dose would last until about 9pm, and based on his experience last night, he would have about another hour after that before he started to feel intolerably bad. 10pm seemed like a pretty reasonable bedtime. 

He rolled out of bed and into the shower. 

He came out of the bathroom in his underwear, towel-drying his hair, right as Mark walked into the bedroom. 

“Hey, just wanted to see if - oh sorry!” Mark said.

Ethan quickly moved the towel to wrap around his legs. “What’s up?” Ethan asked, trying to act casual about it, even though Mark had seen him in way more compromising positions than this and it was probably weirder for him to be covering up at all. 

“Wanted to see if you wanted anything from room service,” Mark said, matching Ethan’s casual tone. But Mark had seen them. Ethan knew by the way Mark cleared his throat and hesitated for a moment that he had spotted the two additional large and dark bruises on Ethan’s thigh, and Ethan’s quick reaction to hide them probably looked even more suspicious. 

_Whatever. They’re just bruises._ Ethan thought to himself. _People get bruises. Stop being so paranoid._

“Uh… yeah.” Ethan said. “I could go for some eggs.” 

Mark nodded and turned to leave the room, closing the door behind him. 

Ethan finished getting dressed and sighed to himself. There was this unspoken tension between him and Mark. Ethan was trying to convince himself he was being paranoid, but after last night where he practically fainted in front of Mark, and now with Mark seeing more bruises, Mark had to know something was up. But for whatever reason, Mark wasn’t saying anything. And there was no way Mark knew what Ethan was actually hiding. So Ethan was not sure if it was better to just let this stay buried and weird or to confront it head on. 

He wished he could just tell Mark the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath and trying to look more alive, Ethan headed out to the common area. Mark had made coffee and handed him a mug as he came out. 

“Thanks,” Ethan muttered, accepting the cup and appreciating it’s warmth. 

“Breakfast is on the way, and then I thought maybe we could go to the beach today,” Mark said.

“Mark, we both hate the ocean,” Ethan reminded him. 

“Well, I just thought it might be a nice thing to do,” Mark said. “Relaxing.” 

Ethan frowned. Mark was definitely being weird if he was trying to claim that a beach day would be relaxing. 

“Since when?” Ethan asked with a confused laugh. 

Mark just shrugged awkwardly. 

“Mark?” Ethan pushed, his voice a little more firm this time, because Mark was acting really strange.

“I just think we should take it easy today is all,” Mark said. 

Ethan clenched his jaw. This was irritating at this point. He needed to know what Mark was thinking. 

“Why?” Ethan asked, a little more aggressively than he had intended. 

Mark clearly noticed the shift in their conversation’s tone, because he sighed and looked at Ethan for a second before responding. 

“Look, man, I’m trying really hard to respect your boundaries, but…” Mark trailed off. 

“But what?” Ethan pressed. 

“Something is up with you, right? Are you sick?” 

Ethan looked away. Suddenly he regretted poking the bear and starting this conversation, because now he had to either lie or… well, he just had to lie. He couldn’t tell Mark the truth. 

“You’re obviously hiding something,” Mark continued. “When you came over to film last week, you were acting differently, like maybe you had something on your mind, I don’t know. You just weren’t yourself. Then I saw the bruises, and I could tell that you lied about how you got them. And I kept wondering, why were you lying? It’s not normal to lie about bruises, Ethan. That’s never a good sign.” 

“Mark,” Ethan pleaded, shifting uncomfortably, but Mark kept going. 

“You insisted you were fine, so I took the hint that you didn’t want to talk about it. Whatever it was. But then I came to pick you up for this trip, and you looked like hell, dude. You still do. And you practically fainted twice yesterday. Plus I saw those huge bruises on your leg too. So I started to put some pieces together. What is it? Is it cancer?” 

Ethan exhaled a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Mark. At least now he knew what Mark had been thinking. But he had no idea what to say in response. 

Mark apparently took his silence as confirmation. “How bad is it?” he asked. 

Ethan shook his head and bit his lip, still not sure how to respond. He felt so trapped, and Mark was just staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk about it,” Ethan finally said. It was the only thing he could think of to say. It wasn’t a lie, even if it was misleading.

Mark nodded, his face full of undeserved understanding. Ethan felt a pit of guilt in his stomach. 

“And I don’t want to go to the beach, either,” Ethan said, trying to fill the silence and hopefully change the subject. 

“Ethan,” Mark’s serious tone sounded like he was going to say something more on the issue, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Their food had arrived and Ethan jumped up to get it, relieved at the excuse to walk away from the conversation.

They ate their breakfast in an awkward silence. Ethan mostly just picked at his eggs with his fork, not really eating. He hadn’t taken his MX2 dose so he still didn’t feel great and he wasn’t hungry at all. He questioned if he even wanted the dose. Yes, the past few days had been the best of his life. The feeling of being on MX2 was indescribable. But things had also gotten out of hand pretty quickly, and now he was lying to Mark about having cancer. What kind of a person lies about something like that? True, he hadn’t actually lied, but he was letting Mark believe it and that was the same thing. 

Ethan put down his fork, tired of pretending to be interested in his food. He looked at the clock. It was past 11, the time he had chosen for his dose. He was torn. It would make his headache and this heavy grey feeling go away. More than that, it would make him feel like he was on top of the world. But at what cost?

There was an awkward tension in the air, and Ethan wanted to get away from it. He needed space to breathe. He excused himself from the table. Mark looked at him as he got up, but didn’t say anything. Ethan made his way to his bedroom and closed the door. 

He pulled today’s dose out of his duffel bag and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at it. How the hell had he ended up here? Using drugs and lying to his friend about it. There was something else that was bugging him, too. Something Mark had said twice now. About how Ethan had been acting differently. “Not your usual silly self” is how Mark had first described it. MX2 was an amazing feeling. It was the best feeling in the world to be an expert at everything you tried and to feel like the whole world was at your fingertips. But was Ethan losing the things that made him Ethan in the process? 

Ethan started to cry. He was so confused, so conflicted. Maybe it should have been an easy answer, but it didn’t feel like it. How could something make your life so much better and so much worse at the same time? 

Then there was a knock at the door. “Ethan, can I come in?” Mark’s voice called out.

“Give me a minute,” Ethan called back, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off of his eyes and cheeks. He put the dose back in the sock and shoved it in his bag, which he then put on the floor. He got up and went to the door, trying to be as composed as possible and hoping that Mark would not be able to tell that he had been crying. 

“Hey man,” Mark said as soon as Ethan opened the door. “Look, I’m sorry if I came on too strong back there, it’s just -” Mark paused as he looked at Ethan, concern flashing onto his face. 

Apparently Ethan had not managed to hide the fact that he had been crying after all. Giving up the pretense, he sighed and opened the door wider, motioning for Mark to come in. Mark did and Ethan went to sit cross-legged on the bed. Mark sat down in the chair nearby. Ethan picked at the bedding dejectedly. He didn’t have anything new to say, but he really wished he could tell Mark everything and process this with his friend. 

“You know I’m here for you, yeah?” Mark asked, breaking the silence.

Ethan nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?” 

Ethan rubbed his eyes. He felt so tired and dulled without his dose. He could probably navigate this dynamic with Mark a lot better if he had taken it, rather than trying to have this conversation while nursing a killer headache. It seemed to be getting worse again, which was just great. He also felt chilled again.

“I think I need to go home,” Ethan muttered. He felt terrible saying it, knowing Mark had spent money on this trip and they weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow. But he was making the executive decision to stop taking MX2, and he didn’t know what that kind of detox entailed, but he didn’t think he could find out and keep up a facade for Mark at the same time. 

Mark nodded. “I’ll get my stuff,” he said as he stood up and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Ethan did not know how this drive home was going to go. He seemed to be feeling worse by the minute. He had assumed that the side effects overnight would be the worst of the withdrawal and that not taking his dose the next day would not have been a big deal, but he was quickly learning that that was wrong. 

He decided that it helped that Mark apparently believed he had cancer, because at least that would explain away his symptoms and why he had no energy or desire to maintain any conversation as they drove. But he still absolutely hated that that was the lie he was going with. 

He tried to sleep as they drove, but he felt achy and chilled and terrible. Then, about 2 hours into the drive, the nausea hit.

“Pull over,” Ethan said suddenly, sitting up from the half curled up position he had been resting in. Mark glanced at him. 

“What?”

“Pull over!” 

Mark looked at him questioningly, but pulled the car to the side of the highway. It had barely even stopped moving before Ethan was out of the car and running a few feet away. Then he was vomiting into the field next to the road. His body was trembling and he was shocked to see that he had thrown up pure blood. 

Mark, luckily, had stayed in the car. 

But Ethan was suddenly in blinding pain. His whole body hurt and he was dizzy. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to breathe through the sudden sharp pain shooting through his muscles, but it only seemed to intensify. There was no way he could do another two hours in the car like this. This hurt so bad that he didn’t think he could do another 2 minutes.

He stumbled back over to the car and pulled the passenger door open. “Bag,” he choked out.

Mark looked at him, confused and very clearly concerned. 

“I need my bag!” Ethan said more urgently, holding onto the door to keep himself upright as pain shot through his body.

Mark quickly reached back and grabbed Ethan’s duffel bag, handing it to him through the open door. 

Ethan grabbed it and moved to sit directly behind the car, where Mark couldn’t see what he was doing. He was sure Mark was going to wonder, but he didn’t care. He was in too much pain to care. 

Pulling a dose out from the sock, he lifted his shirt and jammed it into his stomach. The injection burned and he clenched his fists, but almost immediately, the sharp pains coursing through his body lifted. He sighed in relief and closed his eyes. After taking another deep and relaxed breath, letting himself sink into the feeling of MX2, he put the canister away and zipped up his bag. He loved this feeling, but suddenly MX2 really scared him. What was it doing to his body? All he knew was that if he was going to go off of it, it might be best to talk to Rebecca first. 

He heard Mark open the door of the car, and his footsteps as he approached Ethan. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Mark asked as he crouched down next to Ethan. 

Ethan gave him a reassuring nod. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think so.” 

Mark held out a hand. Ethan grabbed it and let Mark help him up. He didn’t need the help, the MX2 made him feel great, but he thought the sudden contrast would make Mark pretty suspicious so he tried to play down how good he was feeling all of a sudden.

They walked back to the car and got in. Mark didn’t start the car right away, he just looked at Ethan. Ethan knew he was waiting for him to say something.

“Got any pickles?” Ethan asked, trying to break the tension.

It worked, because Mark laughed. A surprised but genuine laugh. Then he shook his head in amusement and started the car. 

Ethan spent the rest of the drive lost in thought. What the hell had he gotten himself into?


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Mark dropped Ethan off at his house, Ethan pulled out his phone to call Rebecca. 

“Ethan, hey! I was just getting ready to call you about your next appointment. You should be down to your final dose, yeah?”

“Yeah, listen, about that,” Ethan replied. “I don’t know if MX2 is for me. I want to stop taking it but I need to know more about the withdrawal symptoms.” 

“You want to stop?” Rebecca was shocked. “Nobody on MX2 has ever wanted to stop before. It opens the door to all of your dreams, why would you want to stop?”

“I just -” Ethan stammered. His resolve was dropping even as he spoke to her. He knew he  _ should  _ stop but he didn’t want to. “I’m having some really bad side effects.” 

“How about you come by now and we’ll chat?” Rebecca responded. 

Ethan agreed and immediately grabbed his canisters and his last dose and hopped into his car to drive back to Jeremy’s house. When he arrived, Jeremy let him in and they went back down to the basement office. Rebecca was waiting for him and greeted him with a warm smile. 

“Ethan, glad to see you! Have a seat! Tell me more about what is going on with your side effects.” 

“They’re really bad,” he muttered. “I’m passing out, losing time, vomiting blood…” 

“Are you sleeping through the withdrawals?” Rebecca asked, typing notes onto the computer in front of her. 

“Trying to, but honestly, I need more than 10 hours in my day,” Ethan replied. 

“Hmm. Okay, well there’s a couple different options,” Rebecca said as she turned away from her computer to face Ethan. “There’s another compound that we can create from your specific DNA that might make the drug effective for a little bit longer. We could give you 12 hours or maybe even up to 15. Or we could take you off the drug if that’s what you really want. The withdrawal won’t kill you, but it will be absolute hell for a week, maybe more.” 

Ethan rubbed his forehead in frustration. He hated that response. The whole drive here, he had been trying to convince himself to stop the drug. Reminding himself that this was a bad idea. But when presented with these two options, one of them sounded so much better than the other (and it wasn’t the option to stop). 

It didn’t help that being in this well-lit, professional looking office with Rebecca, who was warm and kind and a medical professional, made Ethan feel so comfortable. It was hard to feel like he was doing anything wrong in this kind of environment. It seemed way less shady than how it would sound if he tried to describe it to anyone. 

But that was the other thing he had to remember: the secret. Ethan hating keeping this secret from his friends. He hated lying and not being able to talk to anyone about this. That wasn’t the kind of person he wanted to be. 

“No, I need to quit,” he said reluctantly. 

Rebecca nodded. “Okay, well let’s talk about what you are going to experience as the drug exits your system so that you know what to expect. You said you’ve already experienced some of the symptoms: fainting, losing time, vomiting blood. There’s also a chance of fever, chills, muscle contractions, seizures, hallucinations, severe anger, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts.”

Ethan sighed. He had never been less excited about anything in his entire life. He would rather eat 100 gallons of Jello. 

“Fine,” he said, gritting his teeth. 

“And Ethan,” Rebecca said, her voice firm this time, “no matter what you experience, you can’t tell anyone about MX2. And no going to the hospital.” She leaned in and got quiet, “that non-disclosure agreement is no joke. You do not want to violate it.” 

Ethan was suddenly even more nervous, but this only reaffirmed why he was doing this. He did not want to deal with keeping secrets from the people he cared about. So he nodded. 

“You said this would last a week?” he asked. 

“Or more. It depends on your body.” 

He nodded again, not having anything else to say.

“You have my number, call if you change your mind,” Rebecca said. She had a concerned look on her face.

Ethan stood up and left. As soon as he got home, he called Mark. 

“Hey man,” Mark said as he answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“Hey, I need to skip filming this week,” Ethan said, trying to sound as cool as possible even though he felt really shaken up about the week ahead of him. “And I can’t edit anything this week either. Do we have enough videos saved up?” 

“Yeah, we’ve got enough videos,” Mark replied, a touch of hesitancy in his voice, before he continued, “Ethan, I know you said you don’t want to talk, but are you okay?”

“Fine,” Ethan said, even as he heard a slight edge to his own voice. He wanted to cry, he was so scared about what he was about to endure. “I have to go, though. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Okay, but -” 

Ethan had already hung up the phone, cutting Mark off. He was not trying to be rude, he just could not stand to hear Mark ask any more questions. He tossed his phone off to the side and slumped onto his couch, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching POV for a minute

Mark stared at his phone after being cut off, a pit of uneasiness growing in his chest. He was trying so hard to mind his own business, but Ethan had been acting so different lately. Not just in terms of the way in which Mark witnessed that he was clearly not healthy, but emotionally too. He was distant and shut down and that was not like Ethan at all. Ethan was one of the most emotionally open guys that Mark knew.

He already knew what Amy would say. The same thing she had been saying, every time Mark voiced his concerns to her.  _ Just give it time, let him come to you if he wants to talk.  _ But Mark didn’t have that same kind of patience. He wondered if that was the problem, and if Amy was right. Maybe Ethan was pulling away because Mark was pushing too hard. 

He sighed, and went to go find Amy and talk to her about it anyway. He relayed to her what had just happened. 

“I’m really worried about him,” Mark said, finishing his story.

“Mark, I’m sure he’s just dealing with a lot. You already know he’s sick, what else are you looking for?” she asked.

Mark shook his head. “I want him to talk to me. I want him to know that he doesn’t have to deal with this alone.” 

“I’m sure he does know that. He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Amy replied gently, putting a comforting hand on Mark’s hand. 

Nodding reluctantly, Mark tried to put it out of his mind. He ate dinner with Amy and then went to his computer to do some editing before bed, hoping to tackle all of Ethan’s load of work for the week. But he kept checking his phone, hoping Ethan might call him back. It didn’t ring. 

Unable to help himself, he sent a text as he was getting ready for bed. “Hey man, just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” He didn’t get a response. 

The next few days went the same. Mark tried to distract himself with work, but he noticed the distinct absence of Ethan. He wasn’t posting anything online. He wasn’t on social media or uploading videos. 

On Thursday afternoon, Mark went back and watched some of Ethan’s most recent content on his channel. Ethan had posted up until their road trip, and it was good content, but there was just something  _ off  _ about him. Just like when he had come to film Unus Annus. Mark couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Ethan was still hilarious and creative, but something about his mannerisms was just a little different. Almost robotic. Like someone had taken Ethan and replaced him with an Ethan android. Clearly Ethan was distracted by something. His head was somewhere else.

Mark pulled out his phone to text Ethan again, but when he opened his messages, he saw the 6 messages that had already gone unanswered. Ethan hadn’t even read them. 

Mark put his phone down, and tried to tell himself to leave it alone. But he couldn’t. Less than a minute later he picked the phone up again and tried calling Ethan. It went straight to voicemail. That only made Mark more anxious. 

So he tried calling Kathryn. She didn’t answer either. 

Sighing, Mark rubbed the back of his neck. _He should respect Ethan’s space._ _He should respect Ethan’s privacy. He should wait for Ethan to come to him._ He kept repeating these things to himself, hearing Amy’s voice in his head, but his gut was telling him that something was seriously wrong. 

He couldn’t just sit here any longer. Making a decision, he got up and put on his shoes and grabbed his keys. He was going to Ethan’s place. 

When he got there, he knocked on the door, but nobody answered. He stood on the front porch and tried calling Ethan again, but it went straight to voicemail again. So he hunted for a spare key. Amy was going to be mad when she found out that Mark was breaking into Ethan’s place, as that was the opposite of giving him time and space, but Mark really felt like something bad was going on. And if he was wrong, the worst thing that could happen was that Mark made a fool of himself and everything was a bit awkward, but at least he would know his friend was okay. 

Finally finding the key, he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The lights were off downstairs and everything was quiet. Mark put the key on the kitchen counter and peeked into the basement. Lights were off down there, too. He came back upstairs and saw Ethan’s phone on the floor by the couch.

He picked it up and tried to turn it on, but the battery was dead. At least that explained why Mark’s calls weren’t going through. But it did nothing to quell the uneasiness Mark felt. Why would Ethan just leave his dead phone on the floor? 

Pocketing it, Mark then turned to the stairs and headed up. Ethan’s bedroom door was closed. Mark knocked on it lightly, but didn’t get a response. So he opened the door. The lights were off in this room as well, but Spencer was on the bed. He saw Mark and whined as he came running over. 

“Hey boy,” Mark whispered, giving him a pet. “Where’s your dad?” 

It looked like Ethan wasn’t in the bedroom either, and Mark was about to turn and leave the condo when he saw that the bathroom door was cracked open and a light was on in there. 

Suddenly extremely nervous, Mark made his way over there and knocked on the doorframe. No response. He slowly pushed the door open. 

Ethan was lying on his side in the tub, with a pillow under his head, and appeared to be asleep. Why the hell was he sleeping in the bathtub? 

“Ethan?” Mark called out softly. 

Ethan’s eyes opened, and he did not look good. Mark had thought he had looked ill before, but now he looked absolutely horrid. His skin was an ashy grey and his eyes looked almost sunken in and as Mark got closer, he noticed Ethan was shivering pretty bad. 

“Hey, bud,” Mark said hesitantly, kneeling down next to the tub. 

“No,” Ethan said weakly. “Mark, you can’t be here.” 

“I’m sorry for coming by unannounced, but I was worried. You haven’t been answering your phone,” Mark said. 

Ethan’s eyes were closing again, as if he couldn’t stay awake.

“Ethan, hey look at me,” Mark said, reaching out to grab Ethan and shake him gently. Ethan’s skin was really hot. “Ethan, you’re burning up. We have to get you to a doctor.” 

Ethan’s eyes opened again at that. “No, no doctors,” he said. “No hospitals, no doctors.” His voice was still weak. “Promise me, Mark. Promise me no doctors.” 

“Ethan…” Mark urged quietly. 

“Promise me.” Ethan was looking at Mark with what appeared to be all the strength he had left and there was a strong intensity to his request. 

Mark looked away for a minute. He suddenly felt like he wanted to cry, seeing Ethan like this. But he nodded. “Okay, I promise.” 

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Mark asked gently. Ethan just gave a small nod. 

Mark left and headed down to the kitchen. He started to cry as soon as he got there. What the hell was this? How sick was Ethan and why was he refusing to go to the hospital? Had he just locked himself away to die here? That’s sure what it looked like.

Pulling out his own phone, Mark dialed Amy. He didn’t know what to do, but Amy was good at the caretaking thing. She would know.

“Amy,” he said, his voice choked and broken sounding as soon as she answered. 

“Mark, what’s wrong?” 

“He’s not okay,” Mark replied. 

“What? Who?” Amy asked. Then after a brief pause, “Ethan?” 

“Yes, Ethan. It’s really bad.” 

“Where are you?” Amy’s voice stayed steady, trying to keep Mark calm.

“I’m at his place,” Mark answered. 

“Okay, I’m coming,” Amy comforted. “I’ll be there soon.” 


	10. Chapter 10

Mark filled a glass with water, but he didn’t take it up to Ethan right away. If he was being honest with himself, he did not want to see Ethan like that again just yet. He was scared to see Ethan like that.

So he sat and he waited for Amy. She showed up in less than 10 minutes and walked into the condo that Mark had left unlocked.

“Mark,” she said, rushing over to him. “What’s going on?” 

Mark felt distraught. “He’s so sick, Amy, and he’s refusing to go to the hospital.” 

“Where is he?” 

Mark pointed upstairs. Amy started to head that direction. 

“Wait,” Mark said, grabbing the glass of water. “I told him I would bring him this.”

Amy took the glass and nodded, then headed up the stairs. Mark watched her disappear into the bathroom, and then put his head in his hands. 

A couple minutes later, though, he heard a crash and then Amy yell from upstairs. “MARK!” 

Mark’s head shot back up and he scrambled to get to his feet. He took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the bathroom, he saw that Amy was kneeling down next to Ethan in the tub. The glass of water had broken and there was water on Ethan and shards of glass in the tub. Ethan was seizing in the broken glass. 

Without missing a beat, Mark ran over and picked Ethan up and moved him away from the shards of glass. He laid Ethan down on the bathroom floor. He remembered something about how you were supposed to time the seizure, though he had no idea what the time limit was or what else to do, especially since Ethan had said no hospitals. In a panic, he pulled out his phone to start timing anyway, but by the time he fumbled to the timer, Ethan had already stopped. 

Mark looked at him. He was barely conscious, and now he had some cuts on one arm and shoulder from the glass. Blood was seeping through his shirt and there were a few drops of blood on the bathroom floor. None of them looked deep, thank god, but it was still scary. 

“Ethan, hey, can you hear me?” Amy’s voice was soothing and gentle as she stroked Ethan’s hair. Mark smiled softly at her, grateful for her. He knew she would be better at handling this crisis. 

Ethan’s eyes flicked open. Mark felt a slight relief at seeing him awake, but then he suddenly felt an overwhelming panic. He couldn’t handle this. He turned and left the room. 

He went back down to the kitchen to grab more water, in a plastic cup this time. But he was overwhelmed with emotions and ended up slamming his fists against the fridge door. He sighed, and then sunk to the floor. He needed to calm down. He didn’t know why he was so upset, other than he felt like his friend was dying and there was nothing he could do. He absolutely hated feeling like there was nothing he could do. Why hadn’t Ethan told them it was this bad?

After he was somewhat regulated, he got up and started searching Ethan’s apartment for a first aid kit, some cleaning supplies for the blood, and a dustpan and broom for the glass. 

By the time he got back upstairs with everything, Amy had coaxed Ethan into a sitting position against the wall. He wasn’t looking at her. He had his arms on his knees and his head down on his arms, one of them scraped up and bleeding, but he was responding to Amy’s questions and seemed a little more alert. 

“Do you know your name?” she asked gently. 

“Amy,” Ethan muttered quietly into his legs. 

“No that’s my name, what’s your name?” 

Ethan let out a small almost giggle at his mistake. It was a hint of the Ethan they usually knew. “Ethan.” 

“Do you know what day it is?” 

“No.” Ethan’s voice sounded defeated now. 

Amy exchanged a glance with Mark as he walked in. 

“Where’s Kathryn?” Mark asked. 

“Out of town,” Ethan mumbled. 

Mark sighed. “Ethan, when was the last time you ate or drank anything?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, drink this,” Mark said, holding out the plastic cup of water. 

Ethan reluctantly lifted his head and reached out to take the water. He took a couple of swallows before making a face like he couldn’t drink more and handing it back to Mark. 

When Ethan looked at him to hand him the cup, Mark was relieved to see there was also a bit more color to his face than there had been earlier. But when they locked eyes, Mark knew that his own face betrayed just how upset he was. Ethan clearly recognized it, because he looked at Mark for a second longer than was normal. 

“Amy, can I talk to Mark?” Ethan asked. 

Amy nodded. “I’m going to go get you some clean clothes,” she said as she stood up and left, closing the door behind her. 

Mark pulled out the first aid kit and motioned for Ethan’s arms. Ethan held them up without a fight and Mark pulled his shirt off. He noticed the fading bruises were still on Ethan’s stomach. He sat next to Ethan and turned him slightly to clean up the cuts on his shoulder and arm. Ethan’s skin was still hot to the touch and he was still shivering. 

“Mark,” Ethan said softly, “I’m so sorry that I’ve been keeping things from you.” 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me. Just let me in.” 

Ethan hissed at the alcohol-soaked cotton burning his wounds and flinched before responding, “I wish I could. You have no idea.” 

Mark didn’t understand what that meant. Of course he could. All he had to do was tell Mark what was going on. But there was no use arguing or getting mad, because Ethan looked so fragile and pathetic right now that Mark didn’t have the heart to push back. 

“Why won’t you let us take you to the doctor?” Mark asked instead as he taped a bandage over a particularly large cut. Most of them looked small and didn’t need to be covered, there were just a couple that looked bad. 

“I don’t need one. I know what’s wrong with me already,” Ethan replied. 

“Yeah, but doctors don’t just diagnose you, they treat you,” Mark said. “They make you feel better.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’ll be okay,” he sighed. 

“Will you?” Mark asked, his voice disbelieving. Ethan did  _ not  _ look like he was going to be okay.

“Yes.” Ethan was firm in his response. “You came at a bad moment, it comes in waves. But I think it’s getting better. Yesterday was worse than today.” 

Mark raised his eyebrows. If this was “getting better” than he did not want to know what worse looked like. Because Ethan looked like he was a step away from death. 

“What is  _ it  _ anyway?” Mark asked, finishing up with Ethan’s cuts and closing the first aid kit.

But Ethan just shook his head. “I need to clean this up,” he deflected, looking at the glass and blood in the bathroom. 

“We’ll take care of that. You need to stay still,” Mark replied. 

Ethan didn’t say anything right away. He just turned to look at Mark. “I really am sorry,” he finally said.

“Ethan, stop apologizing. I just want you to be okay,” Mark said, and they both pretended not to hear the crack in Mark’s voice. 

Soon after, Mark and Amy got Ethan into clean clothes and into his bed to rest. Then they started cleaning the bathroom. 

“Where's your head at?” Amy asked Mark as they cleaned. 

Mark just shook his head. He was scared and confused, but this wasn’t about him right now. They needed to focus on Ethan. 

Once the bathroom was clean, Mark took the trash out to the trash bin. It was getting dark out, but Mark had no desire to leave Ethan here alone. It was obvious he needed someone to stay with him. Amy seemed to agree because when Mark walked back inside, she was inflating a mattress on the living room floor. 

Mark tried to sleep, but he was too worried about Ethan. He had seemed off when they were filming, and clearly unwell on the road trip. But even then, Mark had no idea it was this bad. Or even what “it” really was, Ethan had never said. He was being so vague and closed off and that bugged Mark most of all. It was one thing for Ethan to be sick, Mark understood that part. But Ethan always talked about his mental health and showed his emotions freely. Why had that changed? And why had Ethan said that he “wished” he could talk to Mark about it? Why couldn’t he just talk about it? 

Letting out a long sigh, Mark closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He really needed to sleep to be able to better process all of this, because right now he was stressed and exhausted. But just as he was starting to feel kind of sleepy, he heard footsteps from upstairs. Ethan was up and moving around. 

Mark continued to lie still as Ethan tiptoed down the stairs, grabbed his car keys, and went quietly out the front door. It took a minute for Mark to process this, but then he frowned. He didn’t know where Ethan was going, but if Ethan was having seizures, he should not be driving. Getting off the air mattress, Mark quickly pulled on his shoes and went after Ethan. 


	11. Chapter 11

Ethan slept for a couple of hours once Amy and Mark showed up and got him into bed. He had lost track of his days and sense of time completely, so when Mark told him it was Thursday, he at least had a little bit of context. That meant he had been in this withdrawal hell for 4 days.

And it was, in fact, hell.

Ethan seemed to rotate between the horrible pain and vomiting blood like he had experienced on the ride home with Mark, extreme exhaustion, dizziness, and feverish chills, or in-between periods where he felt semi-alive but still awful. Even in his functional periods, he was tired, kind of dizzy, and felt like some of his insides were missing. Apparently he was also having seizures, he hadn’t even realized that one until today when he seized on broken glass. Now his arm was also terribly sore from that. 

His mental health was shit, too. Rebecca had warned him about mood instability and suicidal thoughts, but who wouldn’t have suicidal thoughts when they were in this much pain and misery all the time? He wasn’t actively suicidal, but there were definitely times, like after he’d been in pain and throwing up blood for hours, where he wished the withdrawal would just kill him so the pain could end.

Now that Ethan had woken up from his brief nap, he was in one of those semi-alive periods where he felt like he could at least stand up and move. He did not feel good. There was no way to describe what he was feeling as positive in any way. But at least he was able to function. This was usually the time he used to take care of Spencer, but Amy had already done that. 

4 days. He had only been doing this for 4 days. It felt like much longer. Rebecca had told him this could last a week  _ or more _ , and Ethan was only 4 days in. He didn’t think he could do this for several more days, much less longer than that. He felt so spent and frayed. 

He knew that Mark and Amy were downstairs. Amy had asked him where he kept his air mattress, implying that Ethan had no choice and they were staying here with him. At the time, Ethan was too tired to fight it. But now he was annoyed that they were here in his space. He felt guilty that they were taking care of him and obligated to give them answers that he couldn’t give. 

Sighing in frustration, he rolled out of bed. He had a brief window of functioning and he wasn’t going to waste it. Maybe he would even leave the house, so as to not have to entertain his new guests. He slipped on a hoodie and his shoes and quietly tiptoed downstairs, grabbing his keys and sneaking past a sleeping Mark and Amy to go out the front door. 

He didn’t know where he was going. He seriously considered driving to Jeremy’s house and asking for that new compound. After all, how had he only been doing this for FOUR days?! He knew he didn’t want to go back on MX2, that was what had led to this misery in the first place. But he also honestly did not want to do this anymore. He was tired.

But for now, he just sat on the front porch. The fresh air was kind of nice

Before he could decide on anything else, the door opened behind him, interrupting his peaceful moment.  _ Shit.  _ He didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Mark. It was always Mark. Mark had been on his ass since the start of all of this. None of his other friends were grilling him about his life or breaking into his house or following him around. But Mark was always asking questions and that was why Ethan couldn't be on MX2. Because of Mark.

“Hey, man,” Mark said as he came and sat down next to Ethan. “Where are you going?”

“Just sitting here,” Ethan responded flatly, not looking at Mark. His response came out far more annoyed than he intended. But he was not in the mood to be pleasant. He’d been violently exorcising an unknown chemical compound from his body for 4 days, he was allowed to be bitter. And he did not have it in him to put on a friendly face. 

Mark noticed, because he tensed. Neither of them said anything for a moment. 

Then Mark spoke, and this time his voice sounded just as irritated as Ethan’s. “Seriously dude, what is your problem?” 

Ethan frowned and looked over at him, shocked and offended by his hostile tone. Suddenly his annoyance flared into full on anger and he stood up facing Mark. “MY problem?!” he bit back loudly. “You’re my fucking problem!” 

Mark seemed really taken aback by Ethan’s sudden outburst. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” he asked hesitantly.

Ethan felt extremely escalated. He was emotionally exhausted and it was all bubbling to the surface at once. 

“Yes of course I want you to leave me alone! I didn’t invite you to come here in the first place! JUST MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS!” 

The front door opened again and Amy peeked her head out, looking half-awake. “Guys!” she hissed in a whisper. “Shut up. You’re going to wake up the whole neighborhood.” 

Ethan narrowed his eyes at her. She was just as bad as Mark, trying to control him. Why couldn’t they both just leave him alone? 

“Fuck you, Amy!” Ethan spat. 

“Hey!” Mark snapped back, immediately standing up to get between Ethan and Amy. “Don’t talk to her like that!” 

“Mark, don’t,” Amy pleaded. “Ethan, what’s going on?” 

“You show up to my house uninvited, break in, and then accuse me of being the problem?!” Ethan seethed, turning back towards Mark. 

“Ethan, calm down,” Mark said slowly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Let’s go back inside and talk about it,” Amy said gently. 

“STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!” Ethan screamed at her. 

“HEY!” Mark yelled, taking a daunting step forward towards Ethan. Ethan felt his hand clench into a fist, ready for a fight.

“Mark, stop.” Amy’s voice was cold this time, clearly pissed. Then she turned to Ethan again and spoke in a much kinder tone. “Ethan, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just don’t want the neighbors to call the cops, okay? Can we just talk and we’ll figure this out?” 

But Ethan was shaking with anger. He had had enough. “I’m so fucking done,” he hissed. Then he abruptly turned on his heel to leave. He pulled his keys out of his hoodie pocket and unlocked his car as he headed to the driver’s side door. 

“Ethan!” Amy called after him, but Ethan ignored it. 

He put the keys in the ignition and put the car in reverse, but felt dizzy. His vision was greying out at the edges. Resigned, he put the car in park again. He knew he couldn’t drive like this, and all of a sudden he was brought back down to earth as logic set in. All of the anger fizzled out of him as quickly as it had erupted. Shock and heavy guilt quickly seeped in to replace it. He had never yelled at anyone like that in his entire life. So  _ that  _ was what Rebecca meant when she said he might experience severe anger as a withdrawal symptom. Ethan was horrified at what he had just done. 

Suddenly, Ethan just crumbled. He started sobbing. He felt awful for blowing up at his friends and he was so fed up with his body and this withdrawal and this secret. He had been in a silent hell for 4 days and he was emotionally spent. He hated himself for ever trying MX2 in the first place. It was the dumbest thing he had ever done. 

Now Mark and Amy were coming over to the car, and Ethan felt like he wanted to disappear into the seat. When they got to him and opened his door, he turned his face away to try and hide the fact that he was completely falling apart. He knew it wouldn’t be successful, though.

“Ethan, come back inside,” Amy coaxed.

Ethan let out another sob and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out.

“It’s okay.” Amy’s reply was gentle, but worried. 

“I didn’t mean any of that,” Ethan whimpered. 

“We can talk about it later, let’s just go inside,” Mark urged. 

Ethan removed his hands and turned to look at Mark, wanting to apologize again. “Mark, I -” 

He had to squeeze his eyes shut and do a double take, because Mark now had two heads. His eyes widened. 

“Ethan?” Amy asked, and hearing his name snapped him out of his staring. Ethan quickly looked away.

Great, he was hallucinating now. 


	12. Chapter 12

Ethan decided he wasn’t going to tell Mark about his new appendage. Doing his very best to just ignore it, he wiped his tears with his sleeve. 

“Inside,” he sniffed with a small nod. 

Amy held out her hand. Ethan took it and got out of the car. She linked her arm in his and held him close as she led him back into the house. She sat him on the couch and then went to the kitchen and started making tea. 

Mark didn’t come join him on the couch, he just hovered in the kitchen near Amy. Maybe it was because Ethan had snapped at him, but right now Ethan was honestly grateful for the avoidance, because he did not like looking at Mark at this very moment. He kept glancing at him, and then quickly looking away from the creepy image his brain was creating. Suddenly he wished he could trade this symptom out and go back to vomiting blood or seizing on broken glass. Either of those sounded lovely compared to this real-life horror experience. 

Amy brought him a mug of hot tea and he accepted it, taking a sip and then bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees, still on the edge of falling apart again. She went back to the kitchen. 

Amy and Mark were whispering to each other and Ethan was sure it was about him. It sounded like they were arguing. They had not said anything to him since bringing him inside, and Ethan didn’t blame them. They were probably afraid he was going to completely snap out of nowhere again. 

Eventually, Amy breached a conversation with him. She came and kneeled in front of him, looking up at him with kind eyes. 

“Hey,” she smiled gently, “how are you feeling?”

Ethan felt a tear roll down his cheek. “Awful,” he mumbled.

“Want to talk about it?”

Ethan trembled as he tried his best to not fall apart again. The thing is, he did want to talk about it. He _needed_ to talk about it. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” he said instead, more tears falling. 

“Do what?” Amy asked, her hand squeezing Ethan’s ankle as a comforting gesture. 

Ethan just shrugged, because he wasn’t allowed to tell them what he was doing and why he was such a wreck. 

At this point, Amy gave Mark a pointed glare, confirming Ethan’s suspicion that they had been arguing. Then she turned her focus back to Ethan. 

“Ethan, where is your head at?” Amy pressed.

Ethan felt his lip tremble as he tried not to sob again, unable to say all of the things he desperately wanted to share. 

Mark finally approached. He sat on the floor next to Amy, but Ethan had to look away. Both of his heads had started melting.

“Ethan, man, we both love you. Will you please just talk to us?” Mark asked. 

Ethan knew Mark was using the word “both” to refer to himself and Amy but it was really creepy under the current circumstances and Ethan felt his chest tighten in fear. Then Mark’s left melted head smirked at Ethan. Ethan flinched. He brought up a hand to cover his eyes and swallowed in fear, because the head was now stretching upwards and moving towards him. 

“Mark, I’m sorry, but I really need you to leave the room,” Ethan gasped. 

“Ethan,” Mark said, sounding upset, but Ethan cut him off. 

“Please!” Ethan’s voice was nearly hysterical. He knew it was a hallucination but it was really, really freaking him out. 

“Okay,” Mark said, backing down at Ethan’s clear distress. “Okay, I’m going to take Spencer for a walk.” He stood up and left. 

Once Ethan heard the front door close and he knew that both of Mark’s heads were gone from the room, he slowly lowered his hand from his eyes. Amy was looking at him with a great deal of concern. 

“Amy, I’m… I’m hallucinating,” Ethan confessed. “Mark has two heads.” 

To Ethan’s surprise, Amy giggled. 

“Don’t tell him that,” she said. “His first one is already big enough.” 

Ethan laughed at that. It was the first time he had laughed in a long time. Amy smiled at him and then got up off the floor. 

“You need sleep,” she said firmly, holding out her hand to help Ethan up.

Ethan nodded in agreement. He was very, very tired. 

Ethan slept until morning this time. He woke up in a lot of pain, his internal muscles cramping up and shooting pain through his body again. Ethan knew at this point that trying to do anything to fight it was futile. He just had to endure the pain until it subsided. 

But he must have made noise, because Amy came in to check on him. 

“Ethan, what’s going on?” Amy asked.

He couldn’t respond. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and try to breathe. He felt a hand rubbing his back, but he could barely acknowledge it. 

Once it had subsided, he sat himself up. Amy was sitting next to him, but he didn’t say anything. He was nauseous and too tired to speak and judging by the frequency of his symptoms over the past few days, it would be a very long day if he had to try to explain himself every time something happened. He really hoped Amy and Mark weren’t going to just hover over him all day watching him suffer. 

Speaking of Mark, where was he? Ethan looked around and didn’t see him.

“Mark went home to feed the dogs,” Amy answered his silent question. “He’ll be back.” 

Ethan just nodded. He still felt really guilty for blowing up at Mark, and then for kicking him out of the room last night. Mark sounded really hurt when Ethan had asked him to leave, and Ethan had not had the chance to explain to him why.

His muscles contracted again and he hunched over, groaning. 

“Okay, okay, breathe,” Amy soothed. 

The contractions subsided again and Ethan slumped backwards, exhausted. He hated the look of worry on Amy’s face. He didn’t want to know how she would react if she saw him vomit blood, which was usually what accompanied these episodes, and he was feeling really sick.

“Amy, can you make me some soup?” Ethan asked, desperate for her to leave. 

She probably knew that he was just trying to get her out, but she nodded anyway and headed for the kitchen. 

Immediately, Ethan got up and ran for the toilet to vomit. Then he flushed it and sunk backwards against the bathroom wall, more pain shooting through his entire body. 

Even after the episodes had passed, he stayed sitting there on the bathroom floor, trying to muster up the willpower to move. He was physically and emotionally exhausted and he did not really want to face Mark and Amy again, now that the shame of what happened last night was fully sinking in.

Eventually, there was a knock on the bathroom door. 

“Come in,” Ethan mumbled reluctantly. 

The door creaked open and Mark popped his head inside. Ethan was relieved to see there was only one of them this time. 

“Amy says your soup is ready,” Mark said tentatively as he looked down on Ethan’s shaking body sitting on the bathroom floor. 

Ethan nodded. “Give me a second,” he replied. 

Mark obliged and closed the bathroom door again and Ethan buried his head in his hands, filled with guilt. He couldn’t help but notice how hesitant Mark was being. Ethan knew he had hurt him and he hated it. 

When Ethan gathered the energy to stumble his way downstairs, he was greeted by an enthusiastic Spencer. Meanwhile, Amy and Mark seemed to be having a serious conversation. They stopped as soon as they saw him. 

“Hey,” Amy greeted. “Here is your soup.” 

Ethan smiled weakly as he sat down. He slowly swallowed a few spoonfuls. He was starving, but also not at all hungry. He had only managed to eat a bite of food here or there over the last several days. The room was tense and there were knots in Ethan's stomach, which didn't help his appetite.

“Ethan,” Amy said cautiously, “I know you don’t want to but I really think you should let us take you to the hospital.” 

Ethan looked away, feeling even more upset. He knew his friends meant well, that they cared, and that he looked like he was being completely irrational because they didn’t know the whole story. But he was upset that they kept backing him into these corners where he felt like he had to lie or explain himself. He wished they would just drop it and take his no for an answer. 

“You’re really sick, Ethan, and we don’t know how to help you,” Amy continued. 

“I didn’t ask you to,” Ethan muttered.

“We know you didn’t,” Amy assured. “But we love you and we can’t just leave you alone like this. You need a doctor.” 

Ethan looked over at Mark. He was standing back from the conversation, not looking at Ethan at all. Clearly Ethan had broken something in their friendship last night. 

Ethan closed his eyes. It was breaking his heart to watch his friends hurt this much. To know he was hurting them. He knew they weren’t going to leave and they weren’t going to drop this and he was going to keep damaging their friendships if something didn’t change. He didn’t know how long these symptoms would last, but he couldn’t stand continuing to be this kind of a burden to them. It was clearly too much. 

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “I have a doctor and there is a treatment,” he muttered as he stood up. “I will go call her.” 

Amy and Mark both looked relieved but Ethan felt conflicted. He needed to stop hurting his friends, he told himself. That’s why he was doing this. Not for himself, for them. 

He got to his room and grabbed his phone. Someone had put it on the charger, which Ethan was grateful for. He dialed Rebecca’s number.

“Ethan,” Rebecca greeted as she picked up. 

“Hey, I need that other compound you were talking about. The one that is specific to my genes.” 

“Come by today and we’ll get started,” Rebecca responded.


	13. Chapter 13

Ethan insisted on taking an Uber.

“Really, we can drive you,” Amy insisted. “Let us drive you.” 

Ethan shook his head. “Look, you wanted me to see a doctor so that’s what I’m doing. But I want to go alone.” 

Mark was still not participating in the conversation, he just sat in the corner watching Amy and Ethan argue.

“Are you sure you are going to be okay?” Amy asked.

Ethan nodded. “This is what I need to do,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was saying it to himself or to Amy, but she conceded and let him call the Uber.

When he got to Jeremy and Rebecca, Rebecca saw the state he was in and immediately handed him his leftover dose of MX2. 

“Take this for now,” she said. 

Ethan took it and jammed it into his stomach. He felt the familiar burn, followed by an indescribable relief. All of the exhaustion and pain and heaviness that he’d been carrying the past few days seemed to just be lifted from him immediately as the dose took effect. 

Rebecca then drew some of his blood and took it into a back room, explaining that she was going to “synthesize the new compound.”

Jeremy came over to the desk to go over “terms” with him now that his week trial was up. Ethan felt bad that he was doing this. Honestly, the last thing he wanted was to go back on this drug, and now he had just thrown away all of those days of withdrawal. But he just kept picturing Mark’s face in the kitchen, so hurt by Ethan, and he knew this was necessary. 

He looked over the terms Jeremy had laid out. The drug was going to be expensive. Ethan wasn’t surprised, but he also wasn’t sure how he was going to maintain that kind of expense. He had some money saved up but it would run out really fast at this rate. Still, he agreed and pulled out his wallet, desperate for a solution to the mess he had created. 

An hour later, Rebecca came out with another small black box. This one was labeled MX3-EN. Another week’s worth of doses.

“Don’t double up,” Rebecca advised. “Start this one tomorrow, after your current dose has worn off.” 

Ethan took the box.

“Same method of injection, same side effects, but this one should give you at least 12 hours.” 

Ethan nodded and left, calling another Uber to get back to his house. He really did feel uncomfortable that he was doing this, but if he was being honest, another part of him was excited to be on the drug again. To feel superhuman again. He missed how incredible this felt.

When he got home, he stashed his new box in his car before heading inside, not wanting to try to explain it to Mark and Amy. They were waiting in his living room when he arrived. 

“How did it go, did you get the treatment? You look better already!” Amy said to him as he walked in. 

Ethan held out his arm where Rebecca had drawn blood, the gauze still taped to it, as if to imply that that was where he had gotten his “treatment.” Another lie. Ethan’s stomach sank. 

Amy looked relieved, but Ethan felt ashamed and didn’t want to look at her. He hated that he was on MX2 right now, because he could see every detail of her worry and concern and he could also see every detail of Mark sulking behind her. Ethan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you guys last night and I’m sorry for putting you through all of this.” 

Amy walked over and hugged him. “We’re just glad you’re okay.” 

Ethan looked over at Mark, and he nodded and then came over to hug Ethan too. But now that Ethan was on MX2 he could see every last detail of Mark’s emotions on his face and Mark’s expression did not have any of the warmth that Amy’s did. Ethan needed to fix this.

“Mark, can we talk?” Ethan asked after Mark pulled away from the hug. 

Mark nodded. Amy quietly excused herself from the room while Ethan and Mark sat down on the couch. 

“Look, when I kicked you out of the room last night, it’s not because I didn’t want you there. I know what I said to you outside, but I really didn’t mean it. I do appreciate you and I know that you came here to check on me because you care and because you’re a good friend. It’s just that I was… uh, in a terrible mental space, and then I was hallucinating, and well, I freaked out,” Ethan said. 

“Yeah, Amy told me,” Mark said. “I’m not upset about that.” The last two words of that statement hung in the air.

“Well then what are you upset about?” Ethan asked nervously. 

Mark was quiet for a moment, like he was debating what he wanted to say or if he should say anything at all. Then he sighed and looked back at Ethan. 

“Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Why did I have to break into your house and find you almost dead in a bathtub instead of you telling me how serious this was and asking for help? Are we not as good of friends as I thought we were?”

Ethan closed his eyes in guilt. It was a fair question, even if Ethan couldn’t answer it. He was silent for a minute, trying to figure out what to say. 

“Mark, I’m really scared.” Ethan admitted and his voice trembled. “I’m dealing with something that is really hard to navigate and I don’t know what I’m doing or how to cope with it. I’m sorry if I’m messing everything up.” Then Ethan looked at Mark. That was as honest as he could be and he hoped it was enough. 

Mark seemed to soften, and Ethan felt relieved. 

“You just really scared me, man.”

Ethan nodded in understanding.

“But this treatment obviously makes things so much better for you, so why weren’t you taking it?” Mark asked. 

Ethan fidgeted uncomfortably. “I don’t like what it does to me,” he said honestly. 

Mark stared at him in disbelief. “It can’t be worse than what you’ve been experiencing without it.” 

“No, I guess it’s not,” Ethan mumbled. 

They were both quiet for a moment. 

“Are we okay?” Ethan broke the silence. 

Mark nodded. “Yeah, we’re okay.”


	14. Chapter 14

Ethan felt amazing on the new compound. 

Things with Mark and Amy were slowly getting back to normal. They were filming videos and joking around again, putting what had happened behind them. Ethan did notice that they treated him as though he was more fragile than they used to. They pulled back on the extreme challenges that required a lot of risk and started doing more mellow videos where they stayed at home and goofed off. Which was truly unnecessary because Ethan felt better than ever on MX3. Rebecca said it would last between 12-15 hours and it lasted almost 14 hours for him. 

But other than the noticeable caution around him, there were no more major incidents. There were a few tense moments, like when they filmed a video trying to learn ballet. During the barre warm-up, they were kicking their legs back and forth. Ethan decided it would be a funny bit to scoot forward and kick Mark in the ass. But then he didn’t move back fast enough and Mark was kicking blindly backwards and kicked Ethan in the thigh, right on his fresh bruise from that morning’s injection. Ethan yelped and he felt his eyes fill with tears. Mark asked him if he was okay and then they laughed it off, but Ethan caught a strange glance between Mark and Amy. But nobody else said anything else about it. Small moments like that were about the extent of it, though, and Ethan felt very comfortable with that. 

The comedowns were back to the normal fatigue and dizziness and headaches, but nothing like the horrific symptoms Ethan had experienced when trying to go multiple days without it. Plus, the extended lifespan of the drug made it a lot easier to be subtle. He could have a full day without anyone being witness to the side effects at the end of the day. Which meant there was far less for his friends to get suspicious about. 

Overall, Ethan felt great. He loved this. He was getting into the best physical shape of his life. He was also learning a ridiculous amount of new skills and absorbing tons of information. He noticed he couldn’t access a lot of that when the drug started to wear off, but as soon as he took his new dose, his memory opened back up again and he could perfectly recall everything he had ever read or heard or learned in some way. He had never felt better in his entire life. 

So he got 14 amazing hours a day for several weeks, but then the day came where Ethan ran out of money. He didn’t know how he was going to afford his next week’s doses. He had blown through his savings. 

Desperate to avoid the horrific withdrawal process again, Ethan didn't know what to do. So he dipped into the Unus Annus account. He swore it would be short-term and he would put it back before Mark even noticed it was gone. After all, thanks to MX3, his own channel was performing better than ever and he had perfected the ways of the YouTube algorithm. He was putting out great content and getting a surge in views. It would just take a minute for his finances to reflect that. 

Mark did notice, though. Almost right away. And Ethan knew that Mark knew as soon as he walked in the door of Mark’s house to film. Mark didn’t say anything to him about it, but Ethan was hyper-aware and he could perceive a difference with Mark immediately. 

They filmed their video ideas for the day, but Mark was slightly less playful than usual. There was an underlying tension in the room that got worse as the day went on. Eventually Amy noticed it too, because she remarked that Mark was being a downer during one of their bits, and Mark shifted uncomfortably at her comment. Then, as soon as that video was done and the cameras were off, Mark just stood up and left the room without a word. Amy looked at Ethan sadly. 

“Don’t take it personally. He’s been acting weird all day,” Amy muttered. 

But Ethan was pretty sure he knew why and he went after Mark. 

“Hey,” Ethan said tentatively. Mark was sitting in his backyard and turned to look at Ethan as he approached.

“Sorry man, just needed a minute. I’m not having a good day,” Mark said. 

Ethan frowned and sat down too. Maybe Mark didn’t know after all? His expression had slightly softened when he looked at Ethan. That meant he wasn’t mad at Ethan and Ethan wasn’t the reason for the tension in the room. 

“Want to talk about it?” Ethan asked, relieved that he had not been caught and able to focus his attention on his friend.

Mark glanced at him, and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think Amy is going to break up with me.” 

“What?” Ethan was shocked. There was no way. Amy and Ethan were the best relationship Ethan knew.

Mark rubbed his forehead out of stress. “I don’t know for sure,” he admitted. “But we’re not in a good place.” 

Ethan was confused. “But you guys seem so great together.” 

“We’ve kind of been getting into it lately,” Mark admitted. “Fighting a lot about...” Mark trailed off, like he didn’t want to finish his sentence. 

Ethan definitely noticed. He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway. “About what?”

Mark looked at Ethan for a minute, and then sighed. “About you,” he admitted. 

Ethan nodded and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

They hadn’t really talked about everything since it happened. Ethan had been very carefully steering clear of that minefield. But he had definitely picked up on the fact that Amy and Mark were not as over it as they were pretending to be around Ethan. The way that they were both just a little more cautious when they interacted with him, and the occasional silent glances between them that they didn’t know that Ethan caught. But Ethan noticed everything on MX3. Every slight movement, every change in inflection, every breath that someone took. He could hear someone swallow from across the room and detect someone’s heart rate just by looking at them because he could see their pulse on their necks. That was the incredible power of this drug.

Mark shook his head. “No, no, it’s not your fault. She’s just not very happy with me right now. But honestly, I don’t know if it’s really about you at all. Lately I’m starting to think there’s something deeper going on with us.” 

Ethan gave Mark a sympathetic look, because Mark looked really troubled and upset now. 

“I mean I knew we were having some conflict, but I thought we were working it out,” Mark muttered. Then he looked around, as if checking to see that Amy wasn’t coming out. “But she stole from our Unus Annus account.”

Ethan’s eyes widened.  _ Oh no.  _

“Why would she do something like that? We’re not short for money. The only reason to go behind my back about it is if she is doing something she doesn’t want me to know about.”

“Mark, I stole it,” Ethan immediately blurted out.

Mark frowned. “What?”

“Please don’t blame Amy,” Ethan said, bowing his head in shame. 

“Ethan, what the hell?” Mark asked, and he didn’t really sound angry, he sounded genuinely confused. That made Ethan feel even worse. 

“I was going to put it back,” Ethan sighed.

“Well why did you take it in the first place?” This time, Mark did sound a little bit angry. 

Ethan looked away and bit his lip anxiously. He could tell him the truth, or at least the truth in the lens of Mark’s understanding. He could say he needed to pay for his “treatments.” Mark would forgive him and probably even offer to pay for it moving forward. But Ethan couldn’t let him do that. Because Mark thought this was some life-saving medical treatment but Ethan knew it was actually just an underground superhuman drug. 

“Ethan, why would you do that? Is everything okay?” Mark asked.

Ethan suddenly remembered that this was why he had tried to stop using this drug in the first place. Because it turned him into this person. The kind of person that lies to and steals from his friends and almost accidentally destroys their relationships. He absolutely hated himself right now.

“Ethan?” Mark asked again more forcefully, because Ethan had not been answering any of his questions. 

“No,” Ethan admitted. “No, nothing is okay.” The words came out before he had a chance to stop them. He buried his head in his hands, roughly threading his fingers through his hair and taking a deep breath, trying to stop himself from falling apart and saying too much. 

Mark pushed, though. "So tell me what is going on," he demanded. "What is going on that has you stealing from your friends?"

“I’m sorry, Mark. This was unacceptable for me to do,” he said into his own lap, deflecting the question.

“Yeah, it was.” Mark said, his tone now cold. 

Ethan’s stomach dropped at that, filled with even more guilt. His chest was tight and he wanted to be anywhere but here in this conversation. 

“You stole from me. That’s a massive breach of trust.”

Ethan nodded and tried to swallow back his tears. Mark was right, after all. Ethan had lied and stolen and there was no excuse for it. Ethan was not about to try to defend himself and make Mark feel sorry for him. He had done this. All of this. He had chosen to try MX2 in the first place and made every choice after that to get him to this point. He deserved Mark’s anger. He looked up at Mark.

“You’re right,” Ethan replied hoarsely. 

“So fucking explain this to me,” Mark snapped. 

God, Ethan hated everything right now. Mark was so angry. Ethan couldn’t tell Mark why he did it, but at this point, he felt like withholding the information might be the end of his and Mark’s friendship. He could lie to try and fix it, but he didn’t want to. He was so tired of lying. He was so fucking fed up with all of this. He hated himself and what his life had come to. He hated how trapped he felt. How suffocating this was to keep this secret and hurt people around him because of it.

“Ethan?” Mark pressed again, even more demanding. 

Ethan shook his head, an involuntary tear escaping and rolling down his cheek that he quickly wiped away. But another followed right after. He was at his breaking point and he couldn’t do this anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” Ethan said in a half-sob. Then he stood up and fled the backyard.

“Ethan, wait,” Mark called after him. But Ethan didn’t turn around. He went through the house and straight out the front door to his car. Amy looked up with concern as he passed her but he ignored her too. 

He drove home and crumpled to the floor of his bedroom, shaking. His phone was ringing. Mark was calling him. He didn’t know what to do now, but he needed all of this to be over.


	15. Chapter 15

“Ethan, pick up the phone!” Mark hissed to himself as he called Ethan. He cursed as he got Ethan’s voicemail. 

Mark had really been trying to move on from his previous fight with Ethan, trying to get back to normal. Ethan was still acting strange, but Mark had tried to chalk it up to him being stressed from his illness and was trying really hard to set his paranoia aside and leave it be. Especially because Amy had made it very clear to Mark that he needed to drop it and leave Ethan alone. 

But something was wrong. Mark knew it for sure now by the fact that Ethan was stealing money and the grief-stricken look on Ethan’s face as he fled. It left a bad feeling in the pit of Mark’s stomach.

Mark tried calling him a second time.

Ethan was not the type of person to steal, or lie for that matter. He was a disgustingly good person. He was goofy and weird and a really loyal friend. He was Ethan. He would not have done this without a reason. Which meant something was really wrong and Mark had dismissed it. Just now, Ethan had admitted that he was not okay and Mark had gotten mad at him instead of being patient, pushing him away when he was clearly really hurting. 

Voicemail. He immediately pushed the call button again. 

Mark felt like he was rightfully angry by what he had just learned, but he also had not expected Ethan to break like that. He had no idea that Ethan would be so easily pushed over the edge. It was a tough conversation, sure, but Ethan had seemed to be handling it okay until suddenly he wasn’t. Ethan had looked so absolutely devastated a few minutes ago and something about the look on Ethan’s face had Mark seriously bothered. He was suddenly incapable of being angry because he had a glimpse into just how badly Ethan was hurting. 

Voicemail again. 

“Ethan, call me back. I’m not mad. Please just call me,” Mark begged into the message before hanging up again. 

Mark slumped back in his chair in defeat. He desperately wanted to fix whatever he had just accidentally done, but Ethan was gone and all he could do was sit and re-play that moment in his head again and again. Ethan admitting he wasn’t okay and Mark yelling at him, followed by Ethan running away. Ethan basically screaming for help and Mark pushing him away. The look of anguish on Ethan’s face as he fled. 

“Mark?” Amy called angrily as she walked over to him, interrupting his thoughts. “Ethan just ran out of here and he looked really upset. What the hell did you say to him?” 

Mark closed his eyes and took a breath. Mark’s attitude toward Ethan while he was sick had been a constant issue between them ever since the fight on Ethan’s porch. Amy felt like Mark was not being empathetic enough, was making Ethan’s illness about himself, and was crossing lines by not respecting Ethan’s privacy, picking fights, and kicking Ethan while he was down. But Mark did not need her to lecture him about it right now. He already knew.

“Mark?” Amy asked again, clearly waiting for him to explain himself. “He didn’t even take Spencer with him.” 

Mark frowned at that. “He left Spencer?” Mark asked, turning to Amy and suddenly getting very worried. 

“What did you say to him?” Amy repeated. 

But Mark just shook his head. “I’ll go find him,” he said, standing up and heading for the house to get his car keys. 

Amy followed him inside. “Do you want me to come with?” she asked.

“No, stay here.” He paused for a moment, and then turned to Amy. “I’m sorry, Amy. I promise we will talk later.” 

Amy looked upset, but she nodded. 

Mark started to speed to Ethan’s house, but before he even got there, his phone rang. Ethan was calling him back. 

“Oh thank god,” Mark breathed as he reached for the button to answer it. 

“Hey, man,” he said as the call connected. “Look, I am really sorry for how I reacted just now.” 

“It’s fine,” Ethan said quietly. “Deserved it.” 

“No, hey, you didn’t. I was just confused, is all. I’m really worried about you, are you okay?”

Ethan was quiet on the other end of the line. Mark was just about to ask if he was still there when he finally responded. 

“I just wanted to let you know that the money will be back in the account in a couple of days,” he said. 

“Ethan, I don’t care about that. I need to know if you’re okay.” 

Another long pause.

“No.” 

Mark’s heart sank at how broken and empty Ethan sounded. “Where are you?” Mark asked firmly. 

Ethan didn’t have to answer, because Mark was pulling up to Ethan’s place and saw that Ethan’s car was parked in the driveway. “Nevermind. I’m outside your place, will you let me in?”

Ethan didn’t say anything, just hung up the phone. But as Mark got out of the car to walk up to the front door, Ethan was opening it for him. 

“Ethan, I’m so sorry I snapped. Please just talk to me.” Mark pleaded. 

But Ethan just shook his head. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?” Mark asked. 

Ethan ignored the question and just turned to go upstairs. Mark followed him. 

When they got to Ethan’s room, Mark saw an open suitcase on his bed. There was also a large taped up cardboard box near the door. It almost looked like Ethan was packing up to move.

“What’s going on?” Mark asked, gesturing to the box.

“It’s my computer, I’m selling it.” Ethan replied dully. 

“Selling it?? Why?” 

“I had to pay you back.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Ethan, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to do that.” 

Ethan didn’t respond, he just started packing clothes into his suitcase. 

“How are you supposed to edit your share of our videos without a computer?” Mark asked.

Ethan stilled for a moment, and then responded. “I didn’t think you would want to do videos together anymore.” 

“What?!” Mark exclaimed. “Ethan, look, I know I was upset, but I didn’t mean… I love doing Unus Annus with you.”

Ethan didn’t respond again. 

“Ethan, look at me!” Mark raised his voice, stepping forward and grabbing Ethan’s wrist, wanting to snap him out of this weird empty void he was in. 

It worked. Ethan dropped the shirt he was holding and looked at Mark. Tears were forming in his eyes. 

“I think I really fucked up, Mark,” Ethan confessed. 

Mark just pulled Ethan into a tight hug, cradling the back of his head with one of his hands. Ethan accepted the hug and buried his face into Mark’s shoulder. Mark held him tight.

“Ethan, no matter what it is, you can talk to me. I’ll help you.” 

Ethan shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Mark soothed. “I don’t care how bad it is. How many bodies are there? I’ll help you bury them all.” 

Ethan gave a brief and half-hearted but genuine laugh at that, which was a relief to Mark. It was nice to know Ethan’s sense of humor was still in there somewhere. The comment also seemed to calm Ethan down a little bit. He pulled away from Mark’s hug. 

“I literally can’t,” Ethan mumbled as he sat on the floor. Ethan wasn’t looking at Mark, but the fact that he was sitting down made Mark feel like he was at least resigned to some conversation. “I’m not allowed to.”

“Allowed?” Mark asked as he sat down too. “What does that mean?”

Ethan seemed physically uncomfortable at the question, a frantic deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face, like maybe he had already said more than he wanted to.

Noting the discomfort, and not wanting Ethan to shut down again, Mark switched to a new question. 

“Why are you packing a suitcase?” he asked. 

Ethan glanced at the suitcase and then looked down at the ground. “I have to go somewhere.”

“For how long?” 

Ethan just shrugged. 

“Well where are you going?”

“Just… away,” Ethan replied vaguely. 

“You can’t tell me?” 

Ethan picked at the floor. “No, that one I could tell you. I just don’t want to.” 

Mark frowned, but he forced himself to stay really calm. He was not going to push Ethan away again. He just wanted to keep Ethan talking. 

“Why not?” Mark asked. 

“Don’t want you to keep stalking me,” Ethan mumbled, a hint of a wry smile on his lips, but Mark did not find this funny at all. 

“Ethan?” Mark asked seriously.

Ethan sighed. “I have to do something, and I don’t want you to stop me,” he replied. 

Mark didn’t like the sound of that at all, especially not with how cryptic Ethan was being. With the way Ethan reacted back at the house, combined with the fact that he left Spencer behind, and now he was selling his computer and “going somewhere” to “do something” that he didn’t want to tell Mark about, Mark was really freaked out. 

“Ethan, I’ve got to be honest, it almost sounds like you’re planning to kill yourself,” Mark said, deciding to just be upfront with it. 

Ethan shook his head no. Mark was relieved to see that, at least. But then Ethan followed that up with another answer.

“I hope not,” Ethan said.

“You… hope not?” Mark asked, his voice a little less calm than he would have liked. That was not a definite no and Mark needed to hear a definite no on this one.

“It’s not part of the plan,” Ethan reiterated. 

Mark sighed. This was the most he had gotten Ethan to engage in any real conversation about himself at all lately, and yet he felt like he wasn’t getting any answers. But just as he was about to get frustrated, a light bulb went off in his brain. 

“You’re going to stop your treatment again, aren’t you?” Mark asked. 

Ethan didn’t respond, but he did catch Mark’s eye for a second, and that was the confirmation Mark needed. 

“Ethan, why?”

“Because I can’t afford it,” Ethan said quietly, not making eye contact with Mark. 

So that explained the stealing. Mark wanted to slap himself, it should have been obvious. This mystery illness had been a huge part of their lives lately, of course the money issue would have been connected to it. He felt another pang of guilt about yelling at Ethan about something that he was clearly feeling very vulnerable about. Maybe Ethan’s pride had gotten in the way of him asking for help, and Mark’s aggression had probably made things worse. He had not exactly created a safe place for Ethan to open up.

“Ethan, let me help,” Mark offered.

Ethan shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s not just that. I don’t want it anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t like what it does to me,” Ethan repeated the same answer he gave last time Mark asked that question. 

Mark was still just as confused by that statement. He had seen firsthand what not having this treatment did to Ethan. He was so sick and in so much pain that he couldn’t function. Whereas when he had the treatment, he seemed okay. Healthy. What could possibly be so bad about this treatment that Ethan was willing to go back to such suffering?

“What does it do to you?” Mark asked.

“I just don’t want it, okay?” Ethan said, an edge to his voice this time. “I need to stop and I know you don’t get it. I know it hurts you but I have to do it and that’s why I won’t tell you where I’m going.” 

Mark sighed. He really wanted to push back, to knock some sense into Ethan and get Ethan to accept his financial help and continue the treatment. Ethan had previously said otherwise, but Mark was pretty sure stopping this treatment was a death sentence for Ethan. 

But Ethan seemed pretty set on this and Amy’s angry voice kept running through Mark’s head as he thought back to all the lectures she had given him recently about respecting Ethan’s boundaries. Plus, Ethan was clearly getting agitated and Mark did not want to scare him away again. 

“Fine. You’re right, I don’t get it, but I won’t argue with you about it anymore. It’s your decision,” Mark said, raising his hands in surrender.

Ethan looked at him, seemingly surprised. “Thank you,” he replied softly.

“But Ethan,” Mark said hesitantly, “will you please reconsider going into hiding? Come stay at my house. Let Amy and I be there for you.” 

Ethan shook his head. “No.” 

“Please,” Mark begged. “No doctors, no hospitals. And I won’t pry or try to argue. I swear. Just, for my own peace of mind, I would feel way better knowing you had people around you and weren’t going through that alone.” 

Ethan looked really hesitant. Mark wasn’t sure if he was going to get through to him.

“You’ll have the guest room and guest bathroom to yourself, and we’ll just be there to offer support. Come on, Ethan. You don’t have to be alone in this,” Mark continued.

Mark watched as Ethan brought his knees up and rubbed the back of his own neck with one of his hands. His hand was shaking and he looked really scared. Clearly something about this was really eating at Ethan. There was a long pause as Ethan seemed to consider his offer.

“Mark,” Ethan finally said nervously. “I need to tell you something.” 

“You can tell me anything,” Mark replied, but internally he felt a knot in his stomach, nervous to hear whatever Ethan was going to share. 

After all, Mark was pretty sure Ethan was going to tell him that this illness was terminal, and that by stopping the treatment, he was getting ready to die. That’s what everything seemed to be pointing to. Ethan’s recent distanced behavior, the way he always seemed like he was dealing with something really big lately, how sick Mark knew he got without the treatment, the fact that he had left Spencer behind and was selling his computer, and now how heavy the room felt. 

Ethan nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by his phone dinging with a notification. Mark exhaled in frustration as Ethan immediately disengaged from the conversation and reached over to grab it. Ethan was flighty and on edge and Mark knew he was using this as a distraction to delay sharing whatever he was just about to share. 

As Ethan read whatever message he had just received, his face hardened. When he looked back up at Mark, something noticeable had shifted in his mood. 

“Ethan?” Mark asked, trying to bring him back to the conversation they had just been having. “What were you going to say?”

“I - “ Ethan stammered. “I just need you to promise me that if I stay with you, that you won’t call a doctor. No matter what.” 

Mark nodded. “Promise,” he said. 

He was relieved that Ethan was taking him up on his offer, but also frustrated and scared. Mark really wanted to know what Ethan was about to share, and that was not it. Ethan had deflected and shut down again. Although the way Ethan had said “no matter what,” seemed to confirm Mark’s suspicions and his chest tightened at the thought. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, no matter how angry Amy might get. He wasn't ready to lose his friend.


	16. Chapter 16

Ethan was quiet on the car ride back to Mark’s place. Mark had loaded his suitcase in the car and refused to let him sell the computer. They had not said anything else since. Which was fine by Ethan because he was preoccupied with other things. 

Ethan did not really want to be going to Mark’s house right now. He was scared about the friction it might cause on his friendships, which already were hanging by a thread due to this whole mess. He had come up with a plan to detox in a cheap hotel room, away from Mark and Amy and the drama he knew it would cause. Then, once he was clean and healthy again, he would work to repair what he had broken. 

But logically he knew Mark had a point about him being completely alone. Having been through this once before, Ethan knew that it would be safer for him to be with other people. The physical and mental toll it took on him was not something he could ignore. He absolutely dreaded having to experience it again and he was honestly terrified. He did not want to do this again. Every bone in his body was screaming at him not to. But he was determined to do this and if he wanted to come out the other side alive, it was probably best to have some supervision. 

And then there was the other thing weighing heavily on his mind. Rebecca. She had texted him right as he was about to cave and tell Mark everything. She was keeping tabs on him. Ethan wasn’t sure how. Had they bugged his phone? His house? Ethan was tempted to just throw his phone out the car window, but even if he did, he couldn’t be sure that that’s how they knew. Had they been eavesdropping on his every conversation he had? What else were they keeping tabs on?

“Ethan?”  Mark’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts and he jumped.

“We’re here,” Mark said. 

Ethan looked around and realized they were in Mark’s garage. Nodding, he unbuckled his seat belt and started to get out of the car. Mark grabbed his suitcase out of the back and led them into the house. They were greeted by Chica and Spencer. 

“Hey buddy!” Ethan said to Spencer as he kneeled down to pet him, grateful to see his face. He had not had much time to think when he had left, but all he knew as he ran out was that he needed to end this mess and that he would not be in a position to care for Spencer. Ethan also knew that no matter how mad Mark was at him, he would take care of Spencer. But Ethan still felt absolutely horrible about leaving him behind. 

The dog kisses were a welcome break from the heaviness and tension on Ethan’s mind. He buried his face in Spencer’s neck fur and for just a second, he was able to forget about the impending sense of doom in his chest and everything that was going on. 

When Ethan looked up again, Amy was in the room. She must have heard the dogs and realized Mark was home. She did not look surprised to see Ethan, and Ethan was still on MX3 so he would have seen it, even if she tried to cover it up. That meant Mark had given her a heads up that they were coming.

“Glad you’re back,” Amy said to Ethan with a smile. “I was worried about you, you left so fast.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Ethan muttered, standing up again and running an awkward hand through his hair.

The room fell into an awkward silence for a moment. Mark broke it quickly. 

“Let’s get your stuff into the guest room,” he said to Ethan. 

Ethan nodded and followed Mark. Mark put his suitcase at the foot of the bed. 

“I’ll let you get settled,” Mark said as he headed for the door. “I’m going to start on dinner.” He closed the door behind him. 

Ethan sighed as he looked around the room. He had stayed in this room a few times before, but this time it felt heavy and scary. He unzipped his suitcase and started to put his clothes in the dresser. He didn’t know why he had bothered to pack several outfits. He knew that by tomorrow he was not going to be focused on changing his clothes. 

Once he got to the socks, he held one specific sock tight in his hand. There was a dose of MX3 in it. After all, Ethan had not been planning to detox at Mark’s house, he had been planning to go away. So he had packed one last dose and he had planned to have one last amazing day on MX3 before he gave it up forever. Now he was just stuck in Mark’s house and it wouldn’t be the same. Ethan genuinely felt really upset about no longer having that opportunity. For all of the shit that this drug had caused, the reality was that Ethan loved how it felt and he was really struggling to let go of it. He squeezed the sock, and then took a breath and shoved it back into his suitcase. It hurt to have to give this up. There were so many things he still wanted to do on this drug. 

Ethan shoved the now mostly-empty suitcase under his bed and left the guest bedroom. Maybe he couldn’t have his last hurrah with MX3, but he was still on today’s dose and he could at least try to spend some quality time with his friends before he would be spending an unknown amount of time in hell again. 

Mark and Amy seemed to have the same idea, because they kept the evening light-hearted. Mark cooked them all dinner and engaged in his usual banter. It almost felt like a regular day of the three of them just hanging out, making jokes and being ridiculous. Of course there was an underlying and unspoken tension in the room, but everyone was doing a great job of ignoring it. 

After dinner, Amy went to do the dishes and Mark and Ethan took the dogs out to the backyard for a bit. Mark was throwing a ball for the dogs to chase while Ethan sat and watched. Now that the evening was starting to settle down, the fear was setting back in. By this time tomorrow, Ethan knew he would be in agonizing pain and misery. He wasn’t ready for it.

Mark seemed to notice the shift in his mood, too. He glanced over at Ethan and then came to sit next to him. Ethan didn’t look at him right away, he just continued to watch the dogs chasing each other around. 

“You ever think about the inevitability of death?” Ethan asked before finally turning to look at Mark. It was supposed to be an Unus Annus joke, a bad attempt at conveying his current dread through humor, but Mark didn’t laugh.

“I love you, man, “ Mark said instead. It was warm and genuine and unexpected. Ethan gave him a small smile. 

Then Mark stretched as though he was shaking the weight of the moment off. “Come on, let’s go inside before it gets dark.” 

“I’ll be in in a minute,” Ethan responded. 

Mark nodded and left him to go back in.

As soon as Mark was gone, Ethan leaned forward and buried his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. He was terrified. 


	17. Chapter 17

Ethan thought he knew what to expect on this second round of detox, but the MX3 withdrawal was hitting him differently than the MX2 withdrawal did. 

It started out the same. He woke up the next morning and everything was grey and his head had a dull ache. This was the usual hangover, typically cured by his next dose before any of the really bad symptoms had a chance to appear. Ethan tried to make the most of his last few tolerable hours by playing with Spencer or hanging out with Mark and Amy. He didn’t have the same energy to joke around with them that he had had yesterday, but he watched them goof off and laughed at them and he knew they were trying their best to make this all feel normal. 

As the day progressed, however, it didn’t evolve into any horrible pain or vomiting blood or fainting or fatigue so bad that he could not move. Yes, he felt worse as time passed. Much worse. He was exhausted, nauseous, dizzy, and had a constant headache. But nothing to the extreme of last time yet. Ethan started to wonder if MX3 withdrawal would be easier, since it was made from his own DNA. 

So Ethan let his guard down, and that was when the real symptoms appeared.

It was day 3, and still no seizures, no vomiting blood, no passing out. Ethan mostly felt how he did during his semi-okay periods last time. Not at all good, but able to move around and function. He had been taking a lot of naps and filling his time by watching his friends on YouTube. Mark and Amy had gone back to day to day things. Working, editing videos, etc. Ethan actually felt up to working at times and wanted to offer to help edit some of their Unus Annus footage, but he felt like it was a touchy subject due to the money thing and he wasn’t sure he wanted to breach it right now. 

Especially because he had been enjoying the lack of drama so far. Amy and Mark mostly let him be. They included him in conversations and prepared him food, but they did not fuss about anything or make a big deal out of how obviously unwell he looked and felt. 

Now Ethan was sitting at the table with Mark and Amy eating lunch. They had ordered takeout. Ethan wasn’t particularly hungry, so he was mostly just picking at his food while Mark talked about an idea for a new project he had. Ethan was growing increasingly uncomfortable. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. There wasn’t any pain other than his normal headache and he didn’t feel super nauseous. But his body just felt weird. 

He tried to ignore it and listen to Mark’s conversation. But as he shifted in his seat, he realized his heart was racing. Frowning, he put his fingers on his wrist and tried to subtly take his own pulse. Amy noticed, though.

“Everything okay?” she asked. 

Mark stopped talking and turned to Ethan. Now they were both looking at him.

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

He got up and went to the bathroom. He pressed his hands into the sink counter and leaned forward, trying to breathe. His heart was racing and his chest was starting to hurt. He ran through the list of symptoms Rebecca had explained when discussing MX2 withdrawal, and remembered she had said something about panic attacks. _Maybe it’s just a panic attack_ , he thought to himself. He had never had a panic attack before, but it felt like this could be one. So he tried to convince himself that that’s all it was, but his chest was really starting to get painful now and he felt overheated.

Then he realized he actually had no idea what the withdrawal symptoms would be for MX3. He had not asked Rebecca. She had said MX2 wouldn’t kill him, but did that same concept apply to MX3? Because he felt like maybe he was having a heart attack. 

He was really hot and sweating. He pulled his shirt off to try and cool down. When he did, he noticed that his chest was flushed and he was covered in hives. _Shit._

Had there been peanuts in his food? Was this a withdrawal symptom or an allergic reaction? Ethan wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital so if it was an allergic reaction, things were about to get way more terrifying. 

Without questioning it further, he opened the door to the bathroom and called for Mark, who came running immediately. 

“I need you to get my epi-pen, it’s on my dresser,” Ethan said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “And my benadryl.” 

Mark’s eyes widened, but he nodded and ran to grab it. Ethan sat on the floor and put his head down. He felt really nauseous now and he wasn’t sure if it was a withdrawal symptom, an allergic reaction symptom, or because now he definitely was panicking. This was absolutely the worst timing ever to have an allergic reaction. Rebecca had assured him that withdrawal would not kill him, but an allergic reaction definitely could, especially if he wasn’t allowed to go to the emergency room. 

Mark came back in and handed Ethan the epi-pen, which Ethan immediately jammed into his leg. He followed that up with taking benadryl and then rested his head against the wall behind him. He had to hope that would be sufficient to stave off any life threatening reactions. 

Mark was watching him cautiously. “Ethan…” he said slowly. 

“No.” Ethan replied. He didn’t even have to wait for Mark to finish his sentence to know that Mark was about to suggest a trip to the hospital. 

Mark’s lips formed a tight line. Ethan was sure that Mark was confused by Ethan’s stance against doctors, but Mark had made a promise about not trying to pry or argue and Ethan was going to hold him to it. 

Ethan thought that his allergic reaction was going to be the most dramatic part of the day, but now he was sitting on the couch with Amy next to him, and he had no idea how he got here. A second ago, he was sitting on the bathroom floor talking to Mark. 

“...Okay?” Amy asked.

Ethan jumped at her voice. He had no idea what she had just asked him. He was officially freaked out. He was still reeling with the adrenaline of the allergy scare he had been enduring a second ago but now his anxiety felt out of context and he was really confused about what was happening. 

“Ethan? Did you hear me?” Amy asked him. 

“Uh, I just, how did I... What’s the… what time is it?” he stammered. 

Amy frowned at him. “It’s 1. Why?” 

“1?... 1...pm?” he asked. 

Amy was looking at him like he had two heads, and Ethan realized she must have meant PM because the sun was out. But that made no sense. He had just been having an allergic reaction to his lunch at 1pm. Unless it was the next day. He remembered the incident before the road trip, where he put his head down for what felt like a few seconds and suddenly it was over an hour later. Was this a more extreme version of that? Had he lost 24 hours of memory?

“What day is it?” he asked meekly.

“Sunday… Ethan, what is going on, are you okay?” Amy asked.

No, that was impossible. The allergic reaction had happened on Sunday at about 1pm. It could not now be Sunday at 1pm. Ethan recalled that he had just taken benadryl, maybe it knocked him out and this was a dream? He tried pinching himself but it hurt and definitely felt real. He did not like this at all.

“How long have we been sitting here?” Ethan ignored Amy’s question. 

“Just a few minutes. Are you okay?” Amy’s question was more assertive this time. 

Ethan ran a hand through his hair and took a shaky breath. “I don’t know,” he whispered as panic started to take over.

He was genuinely really scared. Reality had just been ripped out from under him. He had no idea what was going on, what was real and what wasn’t. He suddenly felt so panicked that he couldn’t breathe and he tried to choke down some air. 

“Ethan, look at me.” Ethan suddenly heard Mark’s voice but when he looked around the room he didn’t see him anywhere. 

“Mark, call 9-1-1,” Amy said. She was looking at Ethan with extreme concern, but talking to Mark, who Ethan still could not see. 

“No, don’t!” Ethan said. “You promised.” 

“I’m sorry, Ethan,” Mark’s disembodied voice said. 

Ethan shook his head frantically. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to get out of here. He stood up and headed for the door, but after he took a few steps, he felt a blinding pain in his upper leg that caused him to stumble and nearly fall. 

“Ethan, please sit back down,” Amy pleaded with him. 

“You fucking promised,” he hissed as he started to recover from the pain and headed for the door again. 

He felt a hand grab him to stop him. He looked down and saw just the hand, which he assumed was Mark’s, but he still could not see the rest of Mark. At this point Ethan decided he was obviously hallucinating again, but unlike the last time where it was obvious what the hallucination was, this time Ethan could not immediately discern what parts were reality and what parts were hallucination, and that was way scarier. Had he imagined the entire allergic reaction? How much of this current situation was real? Was he actually talking to Mark and Amy or was he hearing voices? He didn’t know. He had no context for anything. 

Ethan didn’t have time to think about it right now, because if this was real, Mark was calling 9-1-1 and they would surely put him on some sort of involuntary hold if they got to him. He violently yanked his arm away from Mark’s grip and walked even faster towards the door. 

He didn’t get very far. Mark being invisible was a disadvantage to Ethan, because now Mark was apparently in front of Ethan. Ethan couldn’t see him, but he figured that was the body he had just bumped into that now had its arms around him, holding him tight and preventing him from fleeing. 

Ethan struggled against the invisible grip. “Get off me!” he choked, in an absolute panic now. 

When Mark didn’t let go, Ethan took a blind guess at where he assumed Mark’s groin would be and raised his knee into it. It worked. Mark’s grip loosened as he gasped and Ethan was able to forcefully shove him away and keep going.

“WAIT!” Amy yelled. “Okay, okay, you win. Mark, put the phone away! Just please wait a second, Ethan.” 

Ethan stilled, but he was hesitant, his instincts telling him to keep going. He didn’t know what was going on but he knew he didn’t trust the situation. He especially didn’t trust the fact that he couldn’t see Mark to confirm whether or not he would listen and put the phone away, or if he was going to try to grab him again. 

The room was quiet for a second, and Ethan felt like he wanted to cry. He was so scared and confused. He tried to take a deep breath. _It’s just a hallucination_ , he thought to himself. _Let’s just figure this out._

“Mark, where are you?” Ethan asked, trying to get a little bit more control over the situation.

“What do you mean where am I? I’m right here,” Mark responded, but Ethan couldn’t even figure out what direction his voice was coming from. 

Ethan shook his head. “I can’t see you,” he confessed. 

“You can’t…” Mark sounded confused, but then his tone shifted to one of problem-solving. “Okay, hang on.” 

Ethan heard a few footsteps and then felt Mark’s hand grabbing his own and placing it on Mark’s shoulder. As soon as he did, Ethan felt a tear roll down his cheek. He wasn’t sure why that made him so emotional, other than that it felt like it was grounding him to reality a little bit and that was a huge relief. 

“Okay, I’m right here,” Mark assured. As he said it, Ethan watched Mark materialize in front of him.

“How did I get here?” Ethan asked next, his voice trembling. He was hoping his friends could piece together some of the gaps in his current reality.

“Ethan, where do you think you are?” Amy asked, sounding as though she now realized what was going on. 

“Your living room.” 

Amy shook her head. “We’re in the hallway, outside the bathroom,” she said gently. 

As she said it, the living room melted away and Ethan could see the hallway. Amy was not sitting on the couch, she was standing behind him in the door of the bathroom. Ethan looked down and realized he had no shirt on. He remembered that he had taken it off in the bathroom because he felt overheated. He looked in the bathroom and saw the used epi-pen lying on the bathroom floor. So he had not imagined that part after all. But looking at his body now, there were no hives at all. Did he hallucinate the allergic reaction? He wasn’t sure.

Ethan was shaking now. He was relieved to feel like he had found reality again, but he felt really overwhelmed and like his legs didn’t want to support his weight anymore. He was simultaneously really amped up and exhausted. He tightened his grip on Mark’s shoulder to keep himself from falling. 

“Let’s sit down,” Mark suggested, clearly noticing Ethan’s unsteadiness. Mark guided Ethan down to the floor. 

“Fuck,” Ethan swore as he ran a hand through his hair and blinked back some tears. If MX3 withdrawal was completely losing contact with reality, Ethan would beg for the symptoms of MX2 withdrawal instead. 


	18. Chapter 18

“You’re okay, let’s just talk through this,” Mark said calmly. “Tell us what’s going on.” 

“We were eating lunch,” Ethan started.

Amy and Mark nodded, which confirmed to Ethan that it was true. At this point he doubted all of his experiences. 

“I started to not feel great, so I went to the bathroom. I thought I was having an allergic reaction, so I asked you to bring me my epi-pen. The next thing I know, I was in the living room with Amy and that didn’t make any sense, and then I could hear you talking but I couldn’t see you, and…” Ethan trailed off. He figured Mark and Amy knew the rest of what had transpired. “But I can see you now,” he added.

Mark nodded and sighed. He actually seemed relieved. 

“We thought you were still having an allergic reaction,” Mark explained. “It just seemed to us like you were really disoriented and were struggling to breathe, even after the epi-pen.” 

Ethan made eye contact with Mark for a moment. Now that the chaos of everything had subsided, Ethan was evaluating what had just happened and they needed to address it. 

“Mark, you made me a promise,” he said. “We had a deal.” 

Mark swallowed and nodded. “I know, but Ethan, we genuinely thought your throat was closing.”

“Doesn’t matter. No doctors,” Ethan reiterated. 

The room fell into a heavy silence.

“You’re asking a lot of us, you know,” Amy finally said accusingly. Both Mark and Ethan turned to look at her in surprise.

“Amy…” Mark warned.

“I mean, you honestly can’t expect us to just let you die on our bathroom floor without any explanation from you about why,” she continued. 

Ethan sniffed and nodded. “You’re right, I’m not being reasonable,” he agreed.

Amy looked relieved and hopeful, like maybe Ethan was going to change his mind on something, but Ethan was actually pretty angry, even if he was trying very hard to control it. 

“But that’s why I wasn’t going to come here and I wasn’t going to put any of this on you in the first place,” he said, his voice low. “Mark asked me to, and I only agreed because he made that promise.” 

He looked back at Mark with a pointed glare. Mark looked upset and apologetic. Amy, on the other hand, was still angry.

“So that’s it, then? There’s no room for how we feel in all of this?” Amy asked. “I’ve been defending you this whole time, but do you even realize how much this has been hurting Mark? Hurting both of us? Do you even care?” 

Ethan didn’t respond right away. This conversation was going nowhere good. He was upset about being put in this position, yet again. He had tried to avoid it, to leave Mark and Amy out of this. Because he did realize. He knew he was hurting them and how awful of a friend he was being and he very much cared. It was a constant guilt weighing on him and he had not wanted to do this to them again. But Mark had pushed the issue and pressured him into this and made him feel guilty for feeling guilty. It seemed like no matter what decision he made, it was the wrong one and no matter what he did it was going to hurt them. Ethan felt angry and ashamed and defeated all at the same time. 

Ethan didn’t know what to say, but he was on the verge of snapping at Amy and he didn’t want to do that, so he just shook his head.

"I really can't do this right now," he said as stood up to leave.

“Ethan, wait,” Mark was standing up too. 

“Mark,” Ethan warned, his voice on edge. “Don’t.” 

Mark seemed to understand Ethan’s tone, because he acquiesced and let him leave without further protest. Ethan went to the guest bedroom he had been staying in and closed the door behind him. 

He needed to calm down, but he couldn’t. He was still reeling from the fact that he had just had a complete break from reality and now he was also really, really upset about his friends. He was angry at Mark for almost breaking his promise and angry at Amy for her comments that backed him into yet another corner, but most of all, he was angry at himself. And at Rebecca and Jeremy and this whole situation. 

It didn’t help that his emotional baseline during withdrawal was already complete misery. There wasn’t a whole lot of emotional space left for anything as it was. Then to have to cope with the huge mindfuck of a hallucination that he just had, followed by being slapped in the face with how shitty of a friend he was being… it was just more than Ethan was able to handle. 

Ethan wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now. It seemed like every single option was terrible. He wondered how many times he could reach a breaking point, because it felt like he was at one again. 

Ethan caught himself eyeing his suitcase under the bed. He knew there was another dose of MX3 in there, and even though it was the entire reason for all of this pain and suffering, it would also make it go away, at least temporarily. It would make him feel amazing. 

_ No.  _ He thought to himself.  _ You would just have to start your detox all over again. _

And yet, he almost didn’t care. He couldn’t handle what he was feeling right now and he was physically aching for the relief he knew it would provide. 

The logical side of his brain was screaming at the emotional side and he felt caught in the middle of it, like he was being torn in half. He had to do something. It literally felt like he was going to physically explode from all of the buzzing tension in his body. 

Clenching his jaw and using all of the willpower he had in him, he turned back around and left the bedroom. Mark and Amy were still in the hallway talking to each other and they both looked up at him as he exited but he didn’t say anything to them. He still wasn’t in any sort of headspace to deal with that. He just walked past them and out the front door. 

He had no plan, he had no idea where he was going. He just needed to keep walking because it was the only thing he could think to do to keep him from making any more mistakes. As long as he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, he would be fine. Nothing else mattered right now. Just one foot in front of the other. Putting physical distance between him and the dose, between him and his friends, between him everything that was hurting him. 

Slowly, eventually, the buzzing under his skin dissipated. His breathing slowed and his walking pace slowed too. It was only then that he became aware of the fact that someone was following him. 

He rolled his eyes. He was willing to bet money on who it was. 

Sure enough, when he turned around, Mark was trailing behind him.

“This is starting to get fucking creepy, dude,” Ethan said, but his tone lacked anger. 

Mark raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Look man, you just had a possible allergic reaction and then a psychotic break. I don’t care how mad you are at me, I’m not going to just let you wander outside alone after that. Sorry. That wasn’t part of the agreement.” 

Ethan ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he muttered, acknowledging just how dramatic the afternoon had been. Just as Ethan had been starting to feel good about the lack of drama. 

“You okay?” Mark asked. 

Ethan nodded. Okay was a relative term. His head was pounding, he was physically exhausted, and he was completely emotionally unraveled. But he wasn’t currently having an active mental breakdown or dying of an allergic reaction, so he guessed that meant he was okay. 

“How’s Amy?” he asked. 

Mark shrugged. “She’s scared. Worried about you. We both are.” 

Ethan sighed. “Mark -” 

“No, look. You’re right. I made a promise. No prying, no arguing, no doctors. That was the deal. Amy and I broke it, not you. You don’t us any explanations or apologies.” 

Ethan just looked at Mark sadly. His words were supposed to be comforting, but they weren’t. Because Ethan did owe them an explanation and so many apologies. But it was an explanation he couldn’t give. 

But for now, he was overcome with exhaustion. The general fatigue he already had from withdrawal plus the benadryl he had taken on top of all of this emotional chaos had put way too much exertion on his body and he felt dizzy. The adrenaline of everything was wearing off and he was crashing quickly. He looked around and realized he had no idea where he was or how far he had walked. 

“I think I need to sit down,” he muttered. 

Mark nodded and they sat on the curb. Ethan hugged his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. 

“I can text Amy and have her come pick us up in the car,” Mark offered.

Ethan just nodded into his knees. Mark sent the message and then sat silently next to Ethan. 

Ethan turned his head slightly towards Mark and peeked his eye out at him. 

“I really am sorry,” Ethan said. He couldn’t help it, the need to apologize was overwhelming. 

Mark didn’t say anything in response, he just put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and gave him a small, comforting squeeze.


	19. Chapter 19

Mark knew that he should not be doing what he was doing.

Amy had picked him and Ethan up and driven them home. The car ride was silent. Amy was still upset, and Ethan was only half-alert, seeming to have burned through all of his energy in the afternoon’s chaos. When they got home, Ethan had collapsed on the couch. Mark offered to help him to his room, but Ethan mumbled something about “it’s too close to me,” that made no sense. Mark figured he was just so tired that he was speaking nonsense, but Ethan was asleep before he even had a chance to reply. 

So now Mark was here, in Ethan’s room, snooping. He knew he shouldn’t be. He knew it was a huge violation of Ethan’s privacy. But things were just not adding up for Mark and he was desperate. 

Mark felt like he had tried to be very understanding, but this just didn’t make any sense. Ethan was not acting like Ethan. Even if he was sick, it didn’t explain the secret. The big mystery thing that Ethan apparently couldn’t talk about. That he was willing to hurt his friendships for and possibly even die for. What could possibly be worth the clear mental torture that Ethan was putting on himself? 

Mark had gone through Ethan’s drawers, but he just found clothes. In the bathroom was nothing but toiletries. He looked in Ethan’s suitcase and all he found was a stray sock. There didn’t seem to be any clues anywhere. 

So now Mark was going through Ethan’s phone. His internet search history lately was just YouTube videos, but when Mark scrolled back a few weeks, he found that Ethan had been googling some really weird shit. For example, one day he had apparently spent three hours researching complex quantum physics articles. Another day, he had searched for a bunch of Rachmaninoff sheet music for the piano. These were weird because Ethan hated to read anything, much less complicated scientific articles, and as far as Mark knew, he didn’t play the piano or know how to read music.

It was odd, but it didn’t give Mark any answers, other than that Ethan apparently fell down some really weird internet holes when he got bored. 

Mark scrolled through Ethan’s photos next, but found nothing there either. Just a lot of selfies that looked like they were meant for YouTube thumbnails and some photos of Spencer. 

Ethan’s emails were just as boring. Emails sent back and forth with his manager. Receipts for online orders. Social media updates. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then Mark went to Ethan’s text messages. There were a bunch of unread messages from the past few days. It looked like Ethan had not really been checking or responding to anyone since he’d been at Mark’s house. Not really anything of interest though. Friends asking if he wanted to play various video games with him and the sort. 

The last opened text message stuck out to Mark though. It was from someone named Rebecca. All it said was, “Please don’t do it, Ethan. You will definitely regret it if you do.” It was mostly weird because there were no text messages before or after it. No context for the seemingly serious and somewhat cryptic message.

Checking the timestamp, Mark realized that this message was received last week, on Thursday. The day they had been filming Unus Annus and Ethan had admitted to stealing from Mark. Was it related to Ethan’s stealing? His breakdown? Or his decision to stop his treatment? Who was Rebecca? Did she know something about what was going on with Ethan? Mark didn’t have enough information, but it was enough to spike his attention. 

All of Ethan’s other friends seemed completely in the dark. Other than Mark and Amy and now apparently Rebecca, it didn’t seem like anyone knew that anything was even going on with Ethan. The text conversations were all super casual, nobody bringing up anything about Ethan being sick. It seemed like Ethan had really worked to keep his illness and struggles private from everyone. Except for maybe this Rebecca? 

Scrolling through the rest of Ethan’s messages, nothing else stood out. 

Mark put Ethan’s phone back down on the nightstand. He had found pretty much nothing, other than some eclectic google searches and one text message that was kind of curious. 

He knew he should not be snooping, and now the guilt was really starting to settle in. He had not found anything incriminating and he lectured himself about how he needed to stop. This was inappropriate. He had already broken Ethan’s trust once today and now he was doing it again.

Sighing, he left Ethan’s room and went back out to find Amy, knowing that was another problem he needed to address. 

He could not believe that she had given Mark all of those lectures about respecting Ethan’s boundaries and not making Ethan’s illness about himself and not picking fights with Ethan while he was clearly going through a tough time, and then she had gone and picked a huge fight with him right after he had spent the afternoon in a massive crisis.

Of course, Mark was one to talk, having just completely violated Ethan’s privacy. 

Amy was still upset when he found her. 

“Hey,” Mark said softly as he came to sit next to her. “How are you holding up?” 

“I don’t get it,” Amy muttered. Then she turned to look at Mark. “Why is Ethan basically asking to die and why are we just letting him? Why won’t he talk to us?”

Mark just gave her a sad smile. He had all the same questions.

“This is crazy. We can’t keep enabling this,” Amy’s tone was firm now. 

“Amy, if we push him, he’ll just leave. I had to beg him to even accept our help. He was going to just disappear and not tell anyone where he was going. We can’t…” Mark swallowed, choking back some tears, “I don’t want him to die alone.” 

It was the first time Mark had voiced this fear out loud. The fear that Ethan was going to die. The words hung heavy in the air and Mark felt Amy’s hand slip into his. None of this made sense and neither of them knew what to do with it, but it hurt. A lot. 


	20. Chapter 20

Ethan swallowed, even more guilt bubbling up in his chest. 

He had woken up on the couch, feeling awful. He was still exhausted, but couldn’t sleep for very long because of all the pent up emotional stress, and once again, all he could think about was that dose in his suitcase. It was calling to him. 

He knew he shouldn’t take it, but the line between should and want was getting blurrier by the second. He cursed himself for ever packing it. He couldn’t throw it away, Rebecca had made it clear he had to return all the canisters. So it just sat there, taunting him.

Not wanting to entertain the idea, Ethan had decided that he would seek out his friends instead. Being around them would make him more accountable. Would remind him why he was detoxing in the first place. 

He had not meant to eavesdrop, but he overheard the conversation before he realized what was happening, and now he felt even worse than before. If that was possible. 

Ethan got to hear the pure hurt in Mark and Amy’s voices as they talked about him. Had to watch them cry over him. He knew he was hurting them, but for the most part, they had been putting on a brave face for him and not showing it. But now, seeing them when they thought they were behind closed doors and seeing how much they were really struggling with this, it made it so much more real. Ethan didn’t think it was possible to feel even guiltier, but he did. 

And Mark thought he was dying. Ethan could have sworn he told Mark he wasn’t. During the first detox, when Mark was cleaning Ethan’s cuts from the glass, Ethan had made it very clear to Mark that he was going to be okay. But apparently Mark didn’t believe him, because Mark was still operating under the assumption that Ethan was going to die. 

It suddenly occurred to Ethan that he wasn’t going to know how to explain things once he did get better. His friends were under the impression that he stopped treatment for a serious illness. People who stop treatment for serious illnesses don’t just magically get better after a week or so off the treatment. 

Beyond that, this wasn’t something that was just going to go away. The damage it had caused to his friendships was real and it wasn’t going anywhere. Sure, they might all move on from it eventually, but it would always be remembered. 

Suddenly Ethan realized he might have to be lying about this for the rest of his life. And he didn’t want to do that. 

Feeling even more anxious than he had felt when he woke up, he walked away from listening in on his friends. He wanted to go to his room and hide, but he also didn’t, because the dose was in there and he didn’t trust himself not to take it. But it would be dinner time soon and if Mark and Amy knew he was awake, they’d be asking him to eat with them, and he did not want to see them right now. 

So Ethan went and locked himself in the guest bathroom. He sank to the floor and he cried. He sobbed. He let out all of the pent up hurt and anger and shame and fear that he’d been carrying around lately. It felt good to just feel it all, without fighting it. He thought he might just cry forever, but eventually he started to calm down. 

By the time that Mark did come looking for him for dinner, he was luckily no longer crying, just feeling numb and empty. 

Mark knocked on the bathroom door. “Ethan?’ he asked. “You in there?”

“Yeah,” Ethan called back, trying to put some energy into his voice but not sure how successful he was.

“We’re making dinner,” Mark replied. 

Ethan took a breath, trying to make himself sound as calm and collected as possible so as to not concern Mark, but then realized that he was taking too long to answer. 

“I’m not hungry,” he said. He had no desire to move from the spot he was in. It currently felt like his only sanctuary. 

“Okay. Is everything okay?” Mark asked. 

Ethan swallowed. Nothing was okay. Nothing had been okay for a long time. 

“Fine,” he answered. 

Mark seemed to linger at the door for a moment, but then Ethan heard his footsteps retreating. Ethan buried his head in his knees. What was he supposed to do now? He knew that if he went to his room right now, he would cave. He would take the dose. But he couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever and he couldn’t face his friends. 

He didn’t want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to keep this secret. He didn’t want to feel so sick and tired and miserable from this withdrawal. He wanted his old life back. The one where he and Mark spent their days acting like fools on the internet. Right now, it was hard to believe that they were usually so happy and had so much fun together, because it felt like that was a lifetime ago. He grieved that old life and he wondered if he would ever get it back, really. If this could ever be fixed. It didn’t feel like it. And he was  _ tired.  _ Everything had just been so heavy and so dark for what felt like forever.

There was another knock at the door. Ethan tensed in annoyance, wishing Mark would just leave him alone. 

“Ethan?” 

Ethan was shocked to hear Amy’s voice this time. He grimaced, not ready to face her, and silently hoped she would just leave.

“Ethan, can we talk?” Amy asked softly through the door at his non-response.

He took a breath. “I’m not really feeling great,” he said, his voice shaking. He desperately wanted her to leave him alone. 

Instead, he heard her sit down on the other side of the door. 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” she said. “It was just a really scary situation and I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please don’t be mad at me.” 

Ethan tugged his hair, and squeezed his eyes shut, really not wanting to have this conversation. He couldn’t talk about this because it just made him feel worse. It reminded him of how fucked up this all was. It was wrong that Amy was apologizing to him when he was the one that had screwed everything up. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he forced himself to reply. 

“Then can I please come in?” 

Ethan didn’t respond. He didn’t have it in him. He didn’t want to open the door, literally or figuratively. He wasn’t ready to break his sanctuary. Eventually, he heard Amy get up and walk away. It simultaneously hurt and felt like a relief. It hurt because he knew he was still hurting her, but it felt like a relief because he had his solitude back. 

That relief was soon replaced with dread. He still didn’t know what to do. Other than sitting on this bathroom floor forever, he had no ideas on how to deal with what his life had become. And the floor was starting to get pretty uncomfortable. His body ached and he wanted to lie down and curl up somewhere soft. 

He was out of options. There was nowhere else to run to get away from this nightmare he had created for himself. There was only one option left.


	21. Chapter 21

Ethan had been in the bathroom for hours. Mark and Amy had left him alone after Amy’s attempt. They both wanted to check on him, but forced themselves not to. They never knew what to do these days. When should they reach out, when should they push to make sure Ethan was okay, and when should they give him space? It was hard to find the line. 

Mark told himself that after he finished editing this video, if Ethan had not come out yet, he would go and check on him. But just as he had reached that decision, it became unnecessary. 

“Hey,” Ethan said, his voice shaky. 

Mark turned at the voice and saw Ethan standing in the doorway, looking miserable. 

“Hey man, how are you feeling?” Mark asked.

Ethan came in, but he just sat on the floor and didn’t look Mark in the eye. “Not good,” he answered. “Really not good.” 

Mark frowned and got up from his chair to sit on the floor with Ethan. Was Ethan actually going to talk to him? 

Ethan was fidgeting with his clothing and looked extremely uncomfortable. Mark just sat and waited, not wanting to spook him. 

“I -” Ethan stammered, and then briefly looked Mark in the eye. “I’m not sick.” 

Mark frowned at him. What did that mean? He was obviously sick. Just one look at Ethan would tell you that. He was pale and shaky and constantly looked tired and frail. But Mark didn’t want to argue with him, he wanted answers. 

“What do you mean, you’re not sick?” Mark asked. 

“I’m not sick,” Ethan repeated. 

Mark had to put some energy into keeping his facial expression neutral, because he was frustrated by how vague this was. 

“Okay, you’re not sick,” Mark repeated, not sure what to do with that obviously untrue statement. 

“And?” Ethan asked, as though he was waiting for Mark to answer. 

“And what?” Mark was now very confused about what was going on. 

But Ethan shook his head. “I’m not sick  _ and _ …” he repeated, gesturing to Mark. 

Mark was visibly frustrated now. Was Ethan trying to play a fucking improv game with him? Was this all just a joke to him? Mark didn’t want to play. 

“Ethan, whatever this is, it isn’t funny,” Mark said, annoyance finally seeping through his tone. 

“Mark, please,” Ethan said, and his request sounded just desperate enough that Mark was willing to bite, even though this felt absolutely ridiculous.

Sighing, he looked at Ethan again, desperate for any cue or explanation as to what Ethan wanted from this, but Ethan was looking at the floor. 

“You’re not sick and you’ve actually been turned into a vampire?” Mark asked half-heartedly. It was a silly response but Mark had no idea what the hell Ethan was looking for.

But Ethan cracked a small smile, and Mark was honestly relieved to see it. Even though Ethan still wasn’t looking at him and seemed scared out of his mind, and even though Mark really wanted serious answers, it was still nice to see a hint of the weird and goofy Ethan he was used to.

“I’ve been turned into a vampire and I’m craving blood,” Ethan responded, once again making eye contact with Mark for only a second before looking away.

Mark wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. He had no idea what the point of this was, but maybe it was helping Ethan, so he played along for now. 

“You’re craving blood so you accidentally bit someone,” Mark said. 

Ethan nodded at that and seemed to like that response. “I accidentally bit someone and it gave me superpowers,” Ethan said back, once again making brief eye contact with Mark and then looking away again. 

Mark was starting to wonder if that eye contact was supposed to mean something. Originally it had seemed like Ethan was just anxious and not wanting to look at Mark, but now it almost seemed intentional. It almost felt like, while in the midst of a silly conversation, Ethan was trying to send him a different and real message through his eyes, but Mark didn’t understand what it was. 

“It gave you superpowers and now you need to come up with the perfect superhero name,” Mark replied. 

“I need to come up with the perfect superhero name and find a superhero suit,” Ethan said. But he did not make eye contact this time. 

“You need to find a superhero suit and you are assembling a team of other super vampires,” Mark replied. 

“I’m assembling a team of other super vampires because there is a supervillain.” Brief eye contact again. 

Mark had no idea what this was and he was frustrated by his lack of comprehension. This all felt like nonsense, but Ethan seemed to be taking it unusually seriously. 

“There is a supervillain and he is the leader of a rival vampire nest,” Mark said, still confused and, even though he was trying to play along, he was getting increasingly upset.

“He is the leader of a rival vampire nest and he is also the one that turned me into a vampire.” Eye contact. 

“He is the one that turned you into a vampire and…” Mark sighed, unable to keep entertaining this. “Ethan, I don’t know. I’ve got nothing.” 

Mark saw the way Ethan tensed at that. He seemed really dejected by Mark’s unwillingness to keep going. But Mark felt equally as frustrated with Ethan. Mark had been hoping that he would finally have a real conversation with Ethan, and instead all Ethan wanted to do was talk about superhero vampires. Mark had been really practicing his patience with Ethan lately, but this was absurd and he was not in the mood. He had already had a very long and emotional day and he was burned out.

“Look man, I’m going to head to bed. You should get some rest too.” Mark said. He was getting angry and he felt like it might be best to walk away before he ended up snapping at Ethan and making things worse.

Ethan didn’t respond, he just stared sullenly at the floor. In some ways, it was Ethan’s new norm to be emotionally unpredictable and shut down, but Mark could not shake the feeling that Ethan was deeply hurt by Mark’s unwillingness to play his game. Still, Mark was fed up. If Ethan wanted something, he could ask for it.

So he got up and he went to his room to go to bed, leaving Ethan there on the office floor. He figured they could try to talk again in the morning, and maybe then Ethan would be in the mood to actually talk rather than speak in improv games and eye signals that Mark didn’t understand.

But Mark laid awake in bed that night with an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. It was really bugging him. The terrified look on Ethan’s face and the way he was glancing at Mark, like he was trying so hard to get Mark to understand something. But that something made no sense. Ethan was obviously not a superhero vampire assembling a team of superheroes to go up against a rival vampire. As weird as things had been lately, they still weren’t  _ that  _ weird. 

And what was with that eye contact? Ethan had not been looking at Mark for the most part, but whenever he did, it seemed so specific. Was it some sort of code? Or maybe he wanted Mark to focus on certain things that he had said? Mark tried to remember what those things were. Were there specific words he was saying when he looked up? Mark couldn’t remember, it was all blurring together. 

Mark rolled onto his side, trying to get more comfortable so that he could sleep, but he just couldn’t. His gut was telling him that this was really important.

Frustrated, he glanced at the clock. It was nearly 1am and he still hadn’t fallen asleep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to anytime soon, either. His mind was buzzing with this.

So he climbed out of bed, trying not to wake Amy, and decided he would go and see if Ethan wanted to try again. Mark would pay closer attention this time, would really try to figure this out. 

He knocked on Ethan’s bedroom door, but didn’t get a response. Then he opened it slowly, expecting Ethan to be asleep, but Ethan was not in the room. Frowning, Mark went to check the bathroom, where Ethan had been camped out for most of the evening, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well again. But it was empty too. 

Mark was really worried now. He had no idea where Ethan was and given everything that had been going on lately, he did not feel comfortable with that in the slightest. Only about 12 hours ago, Ethan had had a full psychotic break. Followed by a whole lot of emotional upset. And he didn’t look like he was in a great head space when Mark had left him to go to bed either. Unless he was checking himself into a hospital, there was no good reason for Ethan to have left the house right now. 

But just as he was frantically searching the house and getting ready to go into full on call-a-search-party mode, he saw Ethan’s silhouette, sitting outside by the pool. Mark sighed in relief. 

Mark made his way out to the pool to talk to Ethan. He noticed that Ethan was looking at something in his hand, but as soon as Mark approached, Ethan seemed to hear Mark’s footsteps and quickly shoved whatever it was into his pocket. 

“Can’t sleep?” Mark asked, sitting next to Ethan. 

Ethan didn’t respond. He just tightened his lips and looked back out at the water. Mark couldn’t get a read on Ethan’s emotions. Was he sad? Anxious? Or was he not responding because he was angry at Mark for giving up on their earlier conversation? Whatever it was, he was eerily tense. The air around them was heavy.

Mark sighed. “I’m sorry if you were trying to tell me something earlier and I wasn’t listening,” he apologized.

Ethan hardly moved, but he seemed to tense even more at that. “I wasn’t trying to tell you anything,” he said. “Just a dumb game.”

Mark narrowed his eyes at him. Ethan was acting so closed off, and Mark really wanted to figure out why. Why was he so afraid of talking to Mark? They had been good friends for years and Ethan had never been the type to keep anything bottled up. Why was this different? Looking at him closely now, he hardly recognized Ethan. He seemed like a different person emotionally, and he looked different too. He had lost weight. He was skin and bones with pale skin and bags under his eyes. 

But Ethan really didn’t seem like he was in a mood to talk, so Mark started to get up. 

“Mark, wait,” Ethan said quietly, making Mark pause. “Can you just… I can’t… I don’t think I should be alone right now,” he choked out, his voice sounding broken and the statement sounding forced, like he didn’t actually want to be confessing it. He still wasn’t looking at Mark at all.

Mark nodded and sat back down. He watched Ethan, who was staring at the pool water, his hands in his hoodie pocket and one leg bouncing up and down anxiously. He seemed lost in thought, like he wasn’t really paying attention to Mark. 

Mark remembered that Ethan had stuffed something into his hoodie pocket when Mark approached, and now Mark was worried. Based on what Ethan just said, it sounded like Ethan was having thoughts of hurting himself, and Mark really felt like he needed to figure out what he had in his hands. 

“Ethan,” Mark said cautiously, “what did you put in your pocket?” 

Ethan froze at the question. He didn’t answer, but his noticeable reaction only made Mark even more concerned.

Gently, Mark reached over and tried to pull Ethan’s hand out of his pocket, but Ethan held tight, not letting Mark move him. 

“It’s okay, just let me see,” Mark urged. 

“No,” Ethan breathed, his voice strained, like he was pleading with Mark to stop. His eyes looked wide and terrified and a tear rolled down his cheek.

“No judgment,” Mark reassured, trying again. “It’s okay.” 

Ethan shook his head anxiously, terror still evident on his face, but his grip loosened in defeat. Mark pulled his hand out and saw that he was holding what looked like a very small black pen, with a cap on the end. Mark pulled off the cap and saw a small needle. He frowned. 

“Ethan, what...” Mark asked, trailing off as Ethan started to react.

Ethan seemed to wake up all of a sudden, because he snatched it back out of Mark’s hand, replacing the cap and shoving it back in his pocket. Then he stood up. Mark stood up with him, because Ethan looked like he was about to leave and Mark was not going to let that happen right now. Not until he knew for sure where Ethan’s head was at.

“Ethan, -” Mark started, but Ethan interrupted him. 

“Stop,” Ethan hissed. Mark couldn’t tell if it was anger or shame or both, but Ethan was really rattled.

Mark may have crossed a line by pushing Ethan to show what he was holding, but he wasn’t sorry. He was willing to piss Ethan off to make sure he was safe. But now it really looked like Ethan was going to flee. His eyes were darting around like a trapped animal and he was shifting on his feet.

Mark held his hands up in a sign of surrender, but he was also prepared to stop Ethan if Ethan tried to run. 

The wheels were turning in Mark’s head as he tried to figure out what he saw and how it fit into everything. He was developing a theory, but he wasn’t sure if he was right, and now was definitely not the time to confront Ethan with it.

“Ethan, just calm down,” Mark said slowly. 


	22. Chapter 22

_ Fuck.  _

Ethan had not meant to let Mark see the dose. He didn’t know what happened. He was just so tired, and in a moment of weakness, he had stopped fighting. He had lost the willpower to do it anymore. But this was bad. This was really, really bad. 

Ethan didn’t know how Rebecca had known about the conversation at his condo, how she had known the exact moment when Ethan was about to tell Mark the truth. But her text message was a strong reality check. And if someone was listening then, they might be listening now. If Mark said the wrong thing, said anything that indicated what he just saw, they both could be in danger. 

Ethan only knew one thing with absolute certainty, and it was that there were serious consequences if he pissed off Jeremy and Rebecca. They were people with unlimited access to a superhuman drug. Having been on that drug, even briefly, Ethan knew that it made them incredibly dangerous. In just a few weeks of being on it, Ethan had learned everything from elite-level cooking and painting and musical theory to learning 7 different languages and understanding vast amounts of quantum physics. Of course, he could only access all of that when he was on the drug, but once he had a dose, his memory and recall were perfect and there seemed to be no bounds to his mind’s capabilities. So the kind of knowledge and skills that people could amass on it over a longer period of time with unfettered access would certainly make them the smartest and most powerful people on the planet. Ethan was in way over his head and these were not people to mess with. 

Ethan should not have taken the dose out of his room in the first place. But he had been in such a terrible headspace after everything that had taken place yesterday, and then Mark didn’t catch onto his attempt to tell him what was going on. He had failed, so he had given up. He no longer wanted to make Mark understand, no longer wanted a solution, he just wanted to escape this hell. To feel happy and worth something again. So he had seriously been contemplating taking it and was right on the edge when Mark interrupted.

If Mark had not come outside when he did, Ethan might have already taken this dose. And if he was being honest, he was actually angry that he was interrupted. He wanted to feel that feeling again. 

But he had not taken it yet, and now Mark had seen it, and Ethan didn’t know what to do. 

This was really, really, really bad. Ethan needed to figure something out before Mark accidentally said anything incriminating that Rebecca or Jeremy might overhear.

“Ethan, just calm down,” Mark said slowly.

_ Shit, shit, shit, shit.  _ Ethan wished Mark would just be quiet. If he seriously said anything out loud… 

Mark opened his mouth to speak again. “Look man, I -”

“STOP! Jesus christ! Will you just shut the hell up for a minute!” Ethan yelled with as much force as he could muster. He didn’t like doing it. But he needed to derail this before something terrible happened, and also he was actually angry right now, which helped. 

It worked. Mark’s eyes widened in shock and he stopped talking. 

Ethan did not want to be yelling. But he really needed Mark to just be quiet so that Ethan could think about what to do next. He rubbed the back of his neck out of stress. He needed a way out of this. A distraction. Anything to stop things from going in the direction they were going. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, because he knew he was going to regret what he was about to do, he took a deep breath and then suddenly lunged forward and shoved Mark. Ethan had the element of surprise and Mark stumbled backwards, eyes wide, and then fell into the pool. Ethan immediately turned towards the house. He was so badly fatigued from withdrawal and his muscles ached and his lungs burned as he sprinted towards the door, but he had to move. He heard the splash, and then heard Mark spluttering and shouting angrily, but he did not stop. 

It worked as a temporary distraction, but it wasn’t going to last long. Ethan needed to think and he couldn’t. His brain was clouded and heavy with stress and depression and panic. He  _ needed  _ MX3. He was almost at the house now, and he figured he would head for the guest bathroom, determined to lock himself in so he could take the dose and then he would be able to come up with a better plan once his brain was working right.

But before he even got inside, he was being tackled by a sopping wet body. He let out a cry as he hit the ground. He felt his skin get scraped by the concrete and he felt a sudden blinding pain in his right wrist that was now awkwardly caught underneath him. 

He twisted and tried to escape, but Mark had him fully pinned. Ethan could feel Mark’s knee digging into his lower back and it was making it hard to breathe. He struggled and strained against Mark, but Mark weighed more than he did and had the wrestling experience to keep him down.

“Get off,” Ethan pleaded, but Mark did not let him go. 

Ethan tried moving again and that made Mark push him down further. Another intense pain shot through his wrist and all the way up to his shoulder. He cried out and tears stung his eyes.

“Mark, get off, it fucking  _ hurts _ ,” he screamed. He needed Mark to let go of him immediately. He had managed to shift his weight just slightly, in a bad way, and now the pain was overwhelming and enough to make him feel like he was going to be sick or pass out.

Mark seemed to believe him, because this time he pulled back slightly, which made Ethan inhale sharply at the additional movement, and then Mark cautiously got off of him completely. He did so just in time, because Ethan immediately lifted himself just slightly with his good arm and puked. He saw stars from the pain and wondered if he was going to faint. He rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning, his entire right side throbbing at the movement, and his entire body shaking so badly that it felt erratic.

“Ethan?” Mark asked after a moment, and he sounded worried, but Ethan shook his head in irritation.

“Fuck off,” Ethan mumbled as he tried to breathe through the intense pain. He didn’t even mean to say it, but he was in too much agony and the additional stimulation of hearing Mark’s voice was too much to handle. 

Mark fell silent, but didn’t leave. Ethan could still feel his presence behind him, just waiting for Ethan to move. 

After he had some semblance of control over his body again, he slowly sat up, gasping at the pain of moving his arm. He was trembling, and vaguely aware of the fact that his eyes were tearing up, but mostly still focused on trying not to pass out. Pain was radiating through his arm, which felt heavy and hard to move, and he was certain his wrist was broken. He also thought that maybe his chin was bleeding from hitting the concrete and his cheek stung too. He wondered just how battered he was from the fall. The wrist definitely felt like the worst of it, but he felt pain pretty much everywhere from smacking full-force into the concrete.

He finally looked at Mark, who looked absolutely mortified. All of the aggression between the two of them had immediately diffused as they both felt the shock of the moment and the reality of how badly things had gotten out of hand. 

_ At least I found a distraction _ , Ethan thought morbidly.

Amy must have heard all the commotion, because now she was walking outside, clearly disgruntled about having been woken up. 

“What the hell is going on?” she asked angrily, but she froze as she surveyed the scene in front of her. 

Ethan was in too much pain to respond coherently, and Mark seemed too shocked to answer, but Amy seemed to get some general idea because now she was kneeling down next to Ethan and inspecting his bleeding chin. Ethan flinched at her touch, mostly afraid of her accidentally bumping into his arm due to her proximity. 

“Ethan,” she said gently, “are you okay?” 

Ethan shook his head no. “My wrist,” he muttered. “It’s broken.”

Amy reached out to very gently try and inspect Ethan’s wrist, but the moment she touched it, he gasped in pain and jerked away, the movement sending another debilitating shockwave of pain through him that made him cry out. She did not ask how it happened, but Ethan figured the guilt on Mark’s face and Mark’s ruffled appearance told at least enough of the story for her to get a vague idea. 

“Mark, go get a bag of ice, please,” she said. She had used the word please, but by the tone of her voice, it was not a request. 

In fact, Ethan did not think he had ever seen Amy so angry. Her jaw was clenched and her voice was cold. He almost wanted to defend Mark. After all, Ethan had been the one to push Mark into the pool first. And Ethan was sure that Mark had not been trying to hurt him so badly, just stop him. But he couldn’t say anything without bringing up everything that he had been trying to avoid being brought up in the first place. So he just swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat and kept quiet as Mark obeyed like a dog with a tail between his legs. 

Amy didn’t say anything while Mark was gone. She just brushed a twig out of Ethan’s hair and then put a comforting hand on his non-injured arm. Ethan had his eyes closed, and he let out a small involuntary sob. 

Mark returned with the bag of ice and Amy very cautiously laid it on Ethan’s wrist. “Sorry,” she said as he flinched. 

Everyone was silent for a moment, but Ethan could already sense the inevitable question that was about to be asked. 

“No,” he said, before Amy even had a chance to suggest it. 

“Ethan, your arm is broken. You need a cast,” Amy pleaded. “And your face is pretty beaten up too, and what if you have a concussion?” 

But Mark didn’t join in Amy’s urging. “I think I have a wrist brace and a sling somewhere,” he said. “Maybe some prescription painkillers. I’ll see what I can find.” 

Ethan looked over at Mark and nodded. Ethan was surprised. Mark must be feeling  _ really  _ guilty if he was backing Ethan on this, but Ethan was grateful anyway. 

It was a painful process getting Ethan into the wrist brace. Even with the ice and a couple of really strong painkillers, it hurt a lot. Mark put it on while Amy squeezed Ethan’s other hand in support. Ethan knew that his wrist would not heal correctly like this and that he was probably setting himself up for a world of problems once he actually could get seen by a doctor, but that was low on his list of worries for the current moment. 

Once he was in the brace and sling, Amy helped him stand. He felt unsteady on his feet and dizzy from the intense pain he had just endured. 

Amy was completely ignoring Mark as she helped Ethan inside. Somewhere in him, Ethan probably felt guilty again. But mostly he just felt high from the painkillers he had taken, and he wanted to sleep.

And he did. As soon as Amy helped him to his bed, he felt the world fading away.


	23. Chapter 23

Ethan woke up the next morning, his head pounding and his whole body sore. It took him a minute to realize where he was, and another to remember everything that had happened last night. He groaned. There was a throbbing pain still pulsing through his arm. 

He wanted water, but he didn’t want to move because moving would probably hurt. 

As reality settled in, all he could think was that he did not want to be here anymore. He did not want to be in Mark’s house. He did not want to be confronted with anything from last night and he did not want any more conflict. He wanted to be alone. 

Or maybe he wanted to take MX3 and feel incredibly alive again, because he no longer had it in him to care about stopping. He was tired of being miserable. He would read up on how to properly set a broken bone so that he could fix his wrist and then he would set out achieving dreams he had never thought possible prior to this drug.

Absent-mindedly, his non-injured hand wandered to his pocket as he fantasized about the drug. But his eyes widened when he reached inside and found nothing but cloth. The dose was gone. Had it fallen out in the tussle? 

Immediately getting out of bed, Ethan ignored the way his body protested and the sharp pain that shot through his arm as he moved. He couldn’t afford to worry about the pain right now, he had to find it. 

He stumbled out to the backyard and started looking around the area where Mark had tackled him. He scanned the ground desperately, but he wasn’t seeing it anywhere. 

“Looking for something?” Mark’s voice interrupted his search. 

Ethan straightened up and turned towards Mark, suddenly very on edge. Of course Mark had it. Of course things could always get worse. 

“Mark,” Ethan said, his voice scarily firm. “Give it back.” He was looking Mark dead in the eye, and he didn’t care that he was injured and at a severe disadvantage. He would fight Mark if he had to. 

“Give what back, exactly?” Mark asked softly. 

Mark wasn’t being sarcastic or mean, he sounded genuinely curious and concerned, but something about Mark’s question combined with how much pain Ethan was still in and the very real fear currently pulsing through Ethan’s veins led to a rush of anger. He was not going to play around with this anymore. He was absolutely done. He was so far beyond his breaking point that he had crossed over into something else. 

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” he hissed at Mark. “You think that there is  _ anything _ funny about this? LOOK AT ME!” His voice was nearly hysterical as he gestured to his broken arm and battered body. 

“Do you seriously think that I am doing this for fun? That I would be putting all of us through any of this if I didn’t have a very real reason for it? This isn’t a game, Mark. When I say you need to stop and I can’t tell you anything, it’s because I can’t fucking tell you anything! And I have been physically and emotionally torturing myself for  _ you.  _ Because I felt guilty about hurting  _ you _ . Because I wanted to protect  _ you. _ Because I wanted to be the kind of person  _ you  _ would be proud of.” 

Ethan paused to take a breath, and when he spoke again it was slower and more controlled, but just as angry. “But even after all of this, you can’t see how fucking serious I am about this and listen when I say that you need to stop asking questions, so I am done feeling guilty. I am done fighting for this friendship. I am leaving, unless you plan on breaking more of my bones to stop me.” 

Once Ethan stopped, there was a silence in the air. Ethan turned to leave and Mark finally spoke up.

“Wait! It’s inside,” Mark said, gesturing to the door. His tone was unreadable. “I’ll go get it.” 

Ethan should have felt relieved that he had achieved his goal of getting the dose back, but instead, he just felt a strong ache in his chest.

Mark returned and handed Ethan the dose. 

“Thanks,” Ethan muttered, slipping it into his pocket. They both fell into another heavy silence. 

“So,” Mark said, and then cleared his throat. “You’re leaving?” 

It took Ethan a second to process that, but then he remembered that he had in fact said that, and he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, looking away. “Yeah, I just have to pack my stuff.” 

Mark just nodded. Awkwardly exiting the conversation, Ethan turned and headed into the house and back to the guest bedroom. He started taking his clothes out of the drawers to put them back in his suitcase. He hated this. 

On one hand, he really did want to leave. He felt like things had gone way too far this time and he was so, so tired of the back and forth and how hard it was to navigate Mark and Amy while also dealing with so much that was out of his control. Plus, by the sound of Mark’s question, it seemed he had overstayed his welcome and Mark was just as ready for him to leave. 

On the other hand, he hated leaving like this _.  _ On such bad terms and as though he was walking away from the wreckage of his crash site. 

Still, this place wasn’t exactly healthy for him right now either. Not when he had to keep secrets from his friends. He couldn’t keep trying to use them as his supports while not being able to communicate what he needed support for. It was time to stop doing this back and forth. It was creating too much pain for all of them. 

This was further evidenced by the automatic sense of dread he felt in his stomach the moment he heard someone knock at the door.

Taking a breath, he straightened up from his suitcase and went over to open it. 

Amy was standing there, eyes filled with concern. 

“Ethan, you don’t have to leave,” she said, her voice pleading. 

Ethan sighed and turned back to his suitcase, but he left the door open, a silent invitation for Amy to come in. 

“Yeah, I really do,” he said quietly as he stuffed the last of his belongings away. 

“I really am sorry about what I said. And I don’t know what happened last night, but I know Mark feels terrible. He’s really beating himself up about hurting you. He won’t even look me in the eye,” Amy confessed. 

Ethan closed his eyes sadly. That was just another reminder of why he needed to leave. He was so tired of causing everyone so much hurt and of being the source of conflict between Mark and Amy. 

“I appreciate everything you guys have tried to do for me,” Ethan said, not turning around. “But this is not okay. I need you and Mark to leave me alone.” 

“Can I at least drive you home?” Amy offered, her voice cracking.

Ethan shook his head. “I already called an Uber,” he said flatly. He had to be cold. He had to be, it was the only way to do this without letting anyone talk him out of it again. 

So with that, he picked up his bag with his good hand and walked past Amy and out of the bedroom. He passed Mark and didn’t even look at him, and he called Spencer to him and headed straight out the front door. 


	24. Chapter 24

Mark’s chest ached as he watched Ethan walk out. His heart was shattering into a million pieces as he felt himself losing one of his best friends.

He wanted to say something, anything, to fix this, but they were beyond that. Ethan had made it very clear that Mark needed to stop. That Mark’s attempts at fixing things were the exact thing hurting Ethan, so Mark kept his mouth shut this time and he watched his friend walk out the door.

_ I am leaving, unless you plan on breaking more of my bones to stop me.  _ That was what Ethan had said to him. Because that’s what had happened. Mark had gotten so out of control that he had broken Ethan’s wrist, and left him completely battered. Mark had seen the extent of it even worse this morning, the dark purple bruises that had formed on Ethan’s face overnight. Mark was the one that did that, and it destroyed him to know that. 

Mark had crossed the line. He hadn’t just crossed it, he had sprinted towards it and leaped over it and crushed Ethan into the concrete on his way down. He had been angry about being pushed into the pool and he had been scared about Ethan leaving, but neither of those were an excuse for how badly he had hurt Ethan. What he had done was unforgivable. He had crossed Ethan’s boundaries too many times. And so Ethan’s anger and the fact that he was done with Mark made perfect sense.

But Mark didn’t know what to do with himself without Ethan in his life. Forget about the fact that eventually they would run out of their saved up Unus Annus videos, and Ethan wouldn’t be around to film more. Mark didn’t even care about that at all. He just wanted his friend. He and Ethan had grown so close and Mark took that for granted, and now it was being ripped away. 

Now that the front door had closed behind Ethan, Mark vaguely felt Amy’s hand on his arm, but he shook his head and pulled away. He didn’t want to be comforted. He just wanted his friend back. 

The ironic part was, Mark finally felt like he had some semblance of an idea about what was going on with Ethan. He didn’t have all the answers, but the pieces were starting to click together. With the additional context of what he had discovered last night and what Ethan had said this morning, Mark felt like maybe he had finally deciphered Ethan’s riddle. 

But it didn’t matter, because Ethan was gone. What did knowing the truth even matter when Ethan did not want Mark in his life anymore. Knowing a little of the truth now just left a pit in his stomach that he couldn’t soothe.

Mark didn’t know what to do, so he went to bury his grief and anxiety in his work. But it felt wrong to prepare for tomorrow’s Unus Annus upload. His heart just felt heavy as he scheduled it to post tomorrow, and once it was scheduled, he turned his monitor off and went to lie in his bed. All he wanted to do was cry. To grieve the loss of his friendship. 

The next couple of days passed in a similar haze. Nothing felt real and his heart kept re-breaking every time he thought of something that Ethan would find funny and he wanted to send it to him or whenever he saw people online posting anything about his and Ethan’s friendship. 

They didn’t know yet. The fans didn’t know that the friendship was over, and eventually they would find out, and Mark dreaded the day because that would make it feel even more real. He wasn’t ready to deal with that. To read everyone on the internet speculating about what had happened.

What was Ethan going to say about it? Was he going to address it? Was he going to tell everyone what Mark had done to his wrist? Was Mark allowed to be worried about that? After all, Mark had done it, so Ethan was allowed to share it if he wanted to. 

All Mark knew was that everything about this hurt, and he wanted to talk to Ethan, but he couldn’t. 


	25. Chapter 25

Ethan’s house felt eerily empty and quiet and he hated every second of it. Sure, Kathryn was around sometimes, but Ethan was not about to open that door and have what just happened with Mark and Amy happen with Kathryn as well. So as far as Kathryn was concerned, Ethan was just fine. 

He told Kathryn that he and Mark had been spending the week together for an Unus Annus thing and a video had gotten out of hand and he had accidentally been injured, which explained the bruised face and injured wrist. He most definitely did not tell her that his wrist was broken, because he did not want to see the look of horror on her face when he tried to explain that no, he was not going to go to a doctor. He also told her that he and Mark had gotten into a fight about the accident and now they were not speaking. He reassured her that he was fine, but that he just needed space and to be alone for a while.

She respected that, but now Ethan was here, feeling so terribly lonely. 

He was still withdrawing, too, with no end in sight. That didn’t help. Sure, he had never reached the extreme symptoms that had occurred the first time around, but he still felt awful. Emotionally, he was a wreck from everything that had happened with Mark. Physically, everything hurt and he felt awful. He was exhausted and nauseous all the time. Everything was miserable.

He had had a few more hallucinations too. None of them as bad as the one at Mark’s house. All of them he managed to distinguish reality from hallucination. But they still absolutely freaked him out and left him on edge, always wondering what his brain was going to do next. It was like living in a horror/suspense game, except without the game. It was just real life and creatures were always lurking. It was definitely his least favorite symptom.

It didn’t help that now, he didn’t just have access to the one dose, but to his entire remaining stash. It was constantly taking everything in him to not use it. The relief would be so instant and he was hurting so much, but he had not put himself through all of this just to go back. That is what he had to keep telling himself.

He was a little surprised that he had not heard from Rebecca. He had passed the day where he would have been going in for a new set of doses, but she did not reach out. But Ethan figured she probably knew exactly what he was up to, since they were clearly keeping tabs on him somehow. That was a whole other type of discomfort.

Today was particularly rough. It had been three days since he had left Mark’s house. The withdrawal symptoms were showing no sign of easing up, and once again, Ethan was tired. Tired of feeling sick and in pain. Tired of feeling sad. Tired of feeling scared of his own brain. Just tired. 

He knew the MX3 would not fix everything. It would not heal his badly aching arm, nor his broken heart. But those two things might be more tolerable if he was not also feeling like death and constantly tiptoeing on the edge of reality. 

So, for the first time since being home, he felt his resolve truly slipping again. 

Now he was sitting on his bathroom floor, staring at one of his doses. Holding it in his hand, and really considering it. He desperately wanted it. It was almost suffocating how badly he wanted it. But he also didn’t want it. It was a nightmare. A poison. A monster in the shape of a little black pen. 

But he did want it. Regardless of the logical side of his brain telling him it was bad, at his core, he  _ really  _ wanted it. Plus, there was another monster in the room. Sitting in the shower staring at him. It was a hallucination, of course, but it was still making his heart race. Taking the MX3 would make that monster go away. And there was no Mark this time to interrupt him. 

He missed Mark. More than he wanted MX3, he wanted things to be fixed with Mark. He wanted to be joking around and filming ridiculous chaos with him again. He wanted his old life back. And what about Unus Annus? Had Mark kept posting? Ethan hadn’t checked. How many videos were left before they ran out? What would happen after that?

What a miserable failure that was, to not be able to finish out the year on Unus Annus. 

Ethan took a shaky breath, still staring at the dose in his hand. He closed his fingers over it and squeezed it. It would be so easy to just jam this into his body right now. It would make him feel better. It would take away the worthlessness he currently felt about his failures and shortcomings. It would take away the pain. It would make him superhuman again. 

Ethan didn’t know how to process this. How to deal with this kind of thing alone. He had always processed his feelings outwardly, talking to friends and family. Having to keep all of this pain to himself was probably the most torturous thing out of all of this. But nobody in his life knew about any of this at all, except Mark and Amy, and they didn’t know enough. And besides, that bridge was burned. 

Fuck it. Ethan was going to do it. He would call Mark one last time, to apologize and say goodbye, and then he was going to take this MX3 and try to build a new life. It’s not like he had anything to lose and he could not do this anymore. The monster was watching him and had an evil smirk on it’s face and it pissed Ethan off. He wanted to make it disappear. 

Ethan hit the call button and the phone rang loudly into the bathroom, echoing off the walls. Ethan had the phone on speaker. His broken hand prevented him from holding the phone to his ear, and the other hand was tightly holding onto his MX3 dose. 

Mark didn’t answer, and when his voicemail message started to play, Ethan hung up the phone. He wasn’t going to leave a message. He had just wanted the opportunity to talk to Mark, one last time, but he didn’t have the patience to wait and see if Mark would listen to a message and call him back. 

Giving up on that idea and uncapping the dose, Ethan shifted slightly to give himself better access to his stomach. But just before he was about to lift his shirt, his phone vibrated on the floor next to him. Mark was calling him back. 

Ethan froze. He knew he had just called Mark, but now he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. He had almost felt relieved when Mark didn’t answer, and now he had mentally already given into this dose. He was so ready for it. He didn’t want to postpone it. 

Tensing, he put the cap back on the dose and pushed the answer button anyway. It would just be a couple of minutes, and then he could have that relief. 

“Ethan?” Mark asked through the speaker, since Ethan had not said anything even though he took the call.

“Hey,” Ethan said, his voice shaky. 

“I uh, I saw that you called,” Mark said, and he sounded nervous too. 

“Yeah,” was all Ethan said. He regretted this. He had not thought about what he was going to say, and now that Mark was actually on the phone, Ethan realized he didn’t actually have anything to say and he was not in the mindset to have a conversation. He glanced at the monster and realized that if he was actively hallucinating, then for all he knew, this phone call wasn't even really happening. That's why he hated this symptom so much. It made him feel so uncertain of reality.

“What’s going on?” Mark asked after another pause.

“What’s going on,” Ethan repeated dumbly, his thoughts elsewhere. He was staring at the monster and focused on how badly he needed the dose, not paying attention to the phone call. 

“You called me,” Mark said, and his voice no longer sounded nervous, it sounded annoyed. 

That kicked Ethan’s brain back into gear a little bit. He needed to pull it together, because now he was just annoying Mark and there was no reason for him to be wasting both of their time. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, before clearing his throat and speaking up a little bit louder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just… I didn’t like leaving things how we left them and I wanted to call and tell you that. I’m truly sorry for how everything happened and I just needed you to know that.”

“Okay...” was all Mark said, and he left the statement hanging like he wanted something more.

Ethan closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop himself from crying. Of course his apology didn’t fix anything, of course the friendship was still broken. Ethan knew that already, which was why he considered this a goodbye, not a reconciliation. But at least Ethan had said what he wanted to say. Now he could end the call and make this damn monster disappear.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go,” Ethan said quietly. “Sorry to bother you.” 

“Hey, hang on,” Mark said, his voice nervous again. “Does Spencer have a dog house?” 

Ethan frowned. “What?” he asked. He had just been about to cringe at Mark trying to continue the conversation, but the question was so random that it caught him completely off-guard. 

“I don’t remember seeing one, so I was wondering if he had one.” Mark was talking as though this was a completely normal thing to bring up right now.

But Ethan had regained his mental footing now, still keenly aware of the monster in the tub that was now baring its teeth at him, reminding him that he needed to end this call so he could take his dose and make that thing go away before it ate him alive. 

“Mark, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I can’t do this right now.” Ethan said. 

“Right. You have to get back to your vampire war or whatever, right?” Mark asked.

So this was some weird revenge? Bringing up random nonsense because that’s what Mark had thought Ethan had done? Ethan tightened his lips, but he did not engage. If Mark wanted one last punch, that was fine. Ethan didn’t care. He just wanted to hang up so he could take his MX3 and get away from that  _ thing _ . 

“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered instead. “I really have to go.”

“Are you going to go bite some more people, then?” Mark asked aggressively.

Ethan gritted his teeth and didn’t respond to Mark's aggression. Mark was obviously hurt and Ethan’s apology wasn’t going to magically fix that, which was fine, but Ethan had nothing else to say. He had no fight left in him. This was exactly why he left Mark’s house in the first place, and he regretted making this call now. He was too preoccupied with keeping an eye on the monster in his shower. He could not fight with Mark at the same time. It was too much.

He wiped a stray tear from his eyes and glanced over at the monster again. He exhaled a shaky breath, forgetting about Mark completely for a second.

“Tell me, Ethan. Are you craving blood?” Mark pushed again, interrupting the silence.

But something in his tone this time peaked Ethan’s interest, enough to make him look away from the monster. Maybe Mark wasn’t  _ just  _ being an asshole. He sounded serious about the question. Had he figured it out? 

“What?” Ethan asked, wanting to test the waters of this but not sure how.

“Are you?” Mark asked again, firmly, and it sure sounded like he meant something more with the question.

Ethan almost completely broke down right then and there. He didn’t know how to describe the feeling of Mark finally understanding. It was an odd tornado of relief and panic all at once. 

“I -” Ethan stammered and then paused to take a breath, squeezing the dose in his hand. “Yeah,” he confessed. “I am.” As soon as he said it, he broke into tears. He still wasn’t fully confident that Mark was on the same page, but it sure felt like it, and even if Mark didn’t understand, it still felt good to say it out loud to someone.

“Ethan, listen to me, that is not the answer,” Mark pressed. “You have to stop.”

With that response, Ethan knew for sure that Mark understood. Maybe not the details, but enough. But Ethan glanced over at his bathtub again, and the snarling monster staring back at him. Did it matter? It didn’t make the monster go away. Didn’t take away the constant pounding headache that he felt like he’d had for forever. Didn’t make him feel good again. Only MX3 would do that. 

“I can’t,” Ethan choked out. He looked at the dose in his hand, and it was winning this argument. It didn’t matter that Mark knew now, the MX3 was more persuasive. 

“You can,” Mark urged. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“I need him to leave me alone,” Ethan said, an overwhelmed panic rising in his chest. “He’s going to hurt me.”

“The other vampire?” Mark asked. 

“No,” Ethan replied, trying to pull himself together emotionally but still eyeing the monster with increasing panic. 

“Is someone there with you?” 

“No,” Ethan answered. “Kinda.” 

“Which one is it?” Mark pushed. “Yes or no?” 

“Mark I’m not…” Ethan bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he was not making any sense, but he was so overwhelmed that he was struggling to find the words he needed to explain. “Fuck,” he swore, mostly to himself. 

He took a breath and tried again, “There’s a monster.”

“A monster?” Mark asked. 

“Yeah,” Ethan said. 

“Ethan, I don’t know what that means,” Mark said gently. 

Ethan felt flustered. He knew there was a word for this but he could not think of what it was. 

“I don’t… it’s not…” Ethan stammered. “I think it’s make-believe.” That was NOT the right word, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

“Make-believe,” Mark repeated, confused. Then it seemed to click. “You’re hallucinating?”

“Yes,” Ethan said. That was the word. 

“Okay, but it’s not real,” Mark said firmly. 

But Ethan shook his head. The monster was moving, getting into a position like it wanted to pounce on Ethan. 

“But it  _ feels  _ real. And it’s going to attack me.” 

“No, Ethan, listen to me,” Mark said. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” Ethan said quietly, still not taking his eyes off the monster.

“It’s not real. Say that out loud.” 

“It’s not real,” Ethan repeated hesitantly. The monster let out a mocking snicker and Ethan flinched. 

“Say it again.” 

“It’s not real,” Ethan said, a little bit firmer. 

“Again.” 

“It’s not real.”

And with that, the monster just seemed to fizzle out of existence. Ethan let out a sigh. “It’s gone,” he muttered.

Without the hallucination, the need for MX3 felt less dire. Ethan still wanted it, still needed it, but it wasn’t as pressing of an emergency. He could maybe talk to Mark for a couple more minutes. It felt nice to hear his voice.

“Why did you ask about a dog house?” he asked after a moment of being able to breathe again. 

“I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to hang up the phone,” Mark admitted. 

Ethan almost laughed. God, that felt good. Even if it was just for a second. Even if everything still hurt like hell and nothing was okay. 

“Mark?” Ethan asked, the humor having fallen away and the air tense again. 

“Yeah?” Mark replied. 

“Are you mad? About the… about the blood?” 

It was nice that Mark knew the truth now, but Ethan had dug himself in a hole of so many lies. He had still stolen money from Mark, destroyed their friendship, nearly destroyed Mark and Amy’s relationship. There was a trail of wreckage in his wake and Ethan wouldn’t blame Mark if Mark never wanted to talk to him again now that he knew that Ethan had done all of that for some drug. 

“Yeah, I’m mad,” Mark sighed. “I’m really mad.” 

Ethan just nodded. He knew Mark couldn’t see him, but he was mostly just getting himself to accept the answer. 

“But Ethan,” Mark continued when Ethan didn’t respond. “I’m mad because I love you. Because it scares me to watch you go through this and I can’t understand why you would do something so stupid.” 

“Yeah.” Ethan couldn’t argue with that, this was definitely the worst thing he had ever done. 

“You’re better than that shit, man,” Mark said. “I know you are.” 

Ethan stayed quiet. He didn’t want to admit that he still fully intended to take the dose as soon as he hung up the phone. He knew it didn’t make any sense. He knew it was stupid. But he wanted it anyway. 

He felt guilty for disappointing Mark, but that just made him want MX3 more. He wanted the feeling of being the best at everything back. He wanted to be worth something again, instead of being this broken and empty shell of a person sitting on his bathroom floor, full of shame and failure. He wanted to drown out this guilt and misery with the rush that MX3 provided.

And he was scared. Of Jeremy and Rebecca. Even if he stopped the MX3, were they going to be listening in on him for the rest of his life? He hated that thought. It was exhausting to feel like you were always being watched. Always having to walk on eggshells with what you say and do to make sure you’re keeping secrets that you don’t want to keep. Ethan was tired. He was tired and scared and even though MX3 started these problems, now it felt like the only solution. It was the only thing that made any of this feel okay. Maybe he could at least still have all of the things that MX3 had promised him.

“Ethan, are you still there?” Mark asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, realizing he was crying and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Where’s your head at?” Mark asked. 

Ethan bit his lip as he tried to think about how to even begin to answer that. 

“I’ve fucked everything up,” Ethan finally said. Another tear rolled down his cheek but he didn’t bother to wipe it away this time. 

Mark sighed. “You haven’t,” he said gently. “I know it feels like that right now, but it’s not true.” 

Ethan’s head was starting to hurt even worse than it usually hurt, a strong reminder of the relief that he could get as soon as he hung up the phone, but this was the first real conversation he had been able to have in so long that he didn’t want it to end. It felt so good to talk about this. It was comforting to hear Mark’s voice and to know that Mark now knew something about what was going on. He took a breath to try and dull the pain. 

“Mark, I have to tell you something,” Ethan said. “I, uh, I don’t know if I want to stop myself. From, you know, biting.” 

God, his head was really pounding. The dose was in his hand, and all he had to do was stick it in his stomach and this pain would go away. 

“Ethan, it isn’t worth it,” Mark urged. “You’re stronger than this.” 

Ethan shook his head. “I’m not.” 

Mark sighed. “Look, I obviously can’t stop you. But what if you just don’t do it for now? You know? What if you just wait this moment out and see how you feel later?” 

Ethan’s head  _ hurt.  _ He was so tired and so overwhelmed. But maybe he could wait a few more minutes. 

“Spencer doesn’t have a dog house,” Ethan said, trying to distract himself or deflect the conversation, he wasn’t sure which. “I should get him one.” 

“Let’s make him one,” Mark said. “We’ll make a video out of it.” 

Ethan let out a small, tired smile as he rested the back of his head against the wall. It was nice to imagine him and Mark making videos again, even if it might never actually happen. 

“That would be fun,” Ethan said, letting his eyes close, his head still throbbing.

“I’ll add it to the list,” Mark said.

“We could make a human-sized dog house,” Ethan muttered. 

“That’s just called a house,” Mark replied. 

Ethan let out a small laugh. “Oh yeah.” 

It was quiet for a moment, Ethan’s laugh falling into silence and the heaviness of the conversation still hanging over them. Ethan’s head hurt too much to carry the conversation any further. He wanted to lie down.  Well, actually, he wanted MX3. But if he wasn’t going to do that, then he definitely needed to lie down. 

“Mark, I’m going to hang up now,” Ethan said into the silence. “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s 10am,” Mark said skeptically. 

He didn’t seem to believe Ethan, which was probably valid given Ethan’s mental state, but Ethan really did plan on lying down in bed. At least for right now. He couldn’t make any promises about the future.

“M’head hurts,” was all Ethan could muster up the energy to respond with. 

“Okay,” Mark said, still not sounding like he believed Ethan but resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do. “Will you call me later, though? I’m here whenever you need to talk.”

“Okay,” Ethan said tiredly. “Bye Mark.” 

“Bye,” Mark replied sadly. 

Ethan hung up his phone and sighed. His head was pounding, but emotionally, he did feel a bit lighter now. Mark knew. Not everything, of course, but he had enough context that it didn’t feel like Ethan was lying anymore, or like he had to go through this completely alone. They had been able to have a real conversation and that was more than Ethan could have asked for. 

It did not make the craving go away, and the dose felt like it was burning a hole in his hand. But it made him want to fight that craving for at least a little bit longer. Reluctantly, he put the dose back in it’s box in his bathroom cupboard, taking comfort in the fact that it was still there if he changed his mind. 

Then he dragged himself to his bed and collapsed onto it, pulling the covers over him. He was chilly and exhausted and his head was throbbing. He felt like he was getting a terrible fever, like he used to get with MX2 withdrawal. This hadn’t happened yet on the MX3 withdrawal but he knew the feeling at this point. 

Remembering just how much worse his withdrawal could get and realizing that he still didn’t know the details of MX3 withdrawal very well immediately made him want to go back and get the dose. The only thing stopping him was that now, he was comfortable in bed, and he was too tired to get up again. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

Ethan woke up to his phone ringing next to him on the bed. Groaning, he looked at it to see that Mark was calling him. Ethan silenced the call. He checked the time. It was almost 11am. It had not even been an hour and he had just barely fallen asleep and now Mark had woken him up. Ethan had no idea why he was calling, they had just talked. 

Ethan shifted to try and fall asleep again, but not even a minute later, his phone was ringing again. Sighing, he took the call and held the phone up to his ear, but didn’t bother to sit up. 

“What?” he asked, annoyance laced in his voice. 

“Hey man, I was just calling to check in,” Mark said. “Wanted to see how you were doing?”

Ethan frowned. He knew Mark was worried and upset about everything, but this was ridiculous. 

“Would be better if you would let me sleep,” Ethan grumbled.

“You’re still sleeping?” Mark sounded shocked. 

“What do you mean ‘still’ sleeping? I just went to bed at 10,” Ethan said. 

“Ethan,” Mark said, sounding worried now, “you went to bed at 10 yesterday morning.”

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to process what Mark said. If that was true, that meant he had been asleep for over 24 hours. That didn’t make any sense. It felt like he had just fallen asleep. 

But even as he thought about it, he became aware of two things. First, his headache felt much better. Not just better, it was completely gone. And second, he really had to pee. Like  _ really bad _ , to the point where it hurt. 

“Mark, I’m going to have to call you back,” Ethan said suddenly as he rolled out of bed. 

“Ethan -” Mark was going to say something else, but Ethan had already hung up on him and was headed for the bathroom. 

After he had taken care of his most urgent need, he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He still felt uncomfortable being in here, so close to the MX3 doses. He fidgeted as he thought about it. 

By all counts, he was actually feeling pretty good right now. His headache was gone. He still felt sleepy, but not exhausted. He was not hallucinating or in any sort of emotional crisis. This was honestly probably the best he had felt since he started withdrawing, almost completely back to normal. He wondered if this was finally the light at the end of the withdrawal hell. 

And yet, he  _ still  _ wanted the dose. The craving was so strong. Maybe stronger than it had ever been.

Clenching his fist, he turned and left the bathroom. He knew he should call Mark back, but he didn’t want to. As nice as it was to finally have someone to talk to, he really needed to not think about MX3 right now and talking to Mark would do the opposite. 

So instead he took Spencer out, grateful to see that Kathryn had apparently re-filled his food and water and taken care of him while Ethan was sleeping. Then he went back inside and drank a glass of water. 

He wanted to shower, but he did not trust himself to go back into the bathroom where the MX3 was. It was taking everything in him to avoid going into his stash, and being in the same room as it was not an option. He sighed. Now that all of his basic needs had been met, he was running out of distractions and he was still really craving MX3. 

He couldn’t make sense of it. It was an odd sensation. All of the reasons that he had previously had for wanting it weren’t really here right now. He was not in excruciating pain physically or emotionally. Logically, he knew that he absolutely did not want it. And yet, he still felt like he was buzzing inside of his own skin and desperate for the dose. He could not think about anything else.

He was so preoccupied with it that he still hadn’t taken the time to really think about the concerning fact that he had just slept for 24 hours straight. Now that he remembered that, he sighed. He really needed to call Mark back. 

He dragged himself back up to his bedroom, where he had left his phone. Picking it up, he saw that he had two more missed calls from Mark, who was probably really upset about Ethan’s abrupt disappearance. 

He pushed the call back button, and Mark picked up on the second ring. 

“Hey dude, are you okay?” Mark asked as soon as the call connected.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ethan said.

“What’s going on?” Mark asked.

“Are you free? Can we grab lunch or something?” Ethan asked instead of answering Mark’s question. He felt erratic and out of control and he needed to get out of the house now. 

“Yeah, should I come pick you up?” Mark replied. 

“No, I’ll drive,” Ethan said hastily. He didn’t think he was capable of sitting around the house waiting for Mark to get here. “Actually, can I use your shower first?” Ethan asked.

“Sure…” Mark said, sounding confused but not asking about it. 

“Great, I’ll be there soon,” Ethan said as he hung up the phone. 

He grabbed some clean clothes and immediately headed for Mark’s house. It felt weird pulling into his driveway. Just a few days ago he had left this place feeling like he would never be back. 

“Hey, man,” Mark greeted him at the door, but Ethan could tell that he felt awkward too. 

“Hey.” Ethan shifted uncomfortably and scratched at the back of his head. The tension of this moment was only fueling the tension that was already built up in him, and he hoped Mark would go easy on him and not try to make this into some big thing. 

Luckily, Mark just opened the door to let Ethan in. Ethan made his way to the guest bathroom. He tried his best to clean himself without getting his injured arm wet, and the warm water soothed his frayed nerves. When he finished, he felt a bit better. Still antsy, but like he had a bit more control over himself.

Then he and Mark drove to a cafe to get some food. They didn’t talk much in the car, but that was fine by Ethan. He was still anxious and on edge and he did not really want to think about or talk about why. He did not understand why he was craving MX3 so intensely right now but the feeling would just not go away.

It wasn’t until they had ordered their food and were seated at the restaurant that Mark tried to start a real conversation. 

“So,” Mark said, clearing his throat and getting Ethan to look at him, “Ethan we need to talk.”

Ethan cringed inwardly, but nodded. He fidgeted with his hands under the table and his leg bounced up and down.

“Relax,” Mark said, apparently noticing how tense Ethan was. “I’m not going to yell at you or anything.” 

Ethan shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…” he trailed off and didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t want to admit where his head was at. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked instead. 

“What are we going to do about our channel?” Mark asked. 

Ethan raised his eyebrows. He honestly had not spent a lot of time thinking about it. “Uh, I don’t know,” he replied. 

“We’re down to two videos before we run out,” Mark said. “We could film more, but I’ve noticed that you haven’t been posting anything online lately and I’m not sure how you feel about being in the public eye right now.” 

“Um,” Ethan stalled. He was honestly conflicted. He wanted to film with Mark again, to have something to focus on other than all of the misery he had been engulfed in lately. And he finally felt like he had the energy to do it. But Mark was right, he had been avoiding the internet. He did not want the fans to see him like this and start speculating about what was wrong. Even without the fading bruises on his face and the injured wrist, they would pick up on it for sure. 

“Or maybe you just aren’t ready to work with me again?” Mark asked. “It’s okay if you aren’t.” 

“No, Mark. No.” Ethan reassured. “You have been an incredible friend to me these past few weeks.”

Mark looked skeptical. 

“Seriously. You have been unbelievably supportive and forgiving. You would have been completely justified in hating me for the shit I’ve done and how I’ve treated you and instead, every single time, you set that aside and just…  _ cared  _ about me. I don’t know anyone else that would do something like that.” 

Mark gave him a small, sad smile. “So then why do you look like you desperately want to run away right now?” he asked. 

Ethan shifted in his seat. Was his discomfort really that obvious? He didn’t want to talk about it or admit how he currently felt like a junkie craving a fix. He was ashamed of it. But he also didn’t want Mark to take it personally and think it was about him, so decided he needed to be honest. He sighed.

“Mark, I -” he started, but he stopped talking as he noticed something in the distance.

Sitting across the restaurant, a man was staring at Ethan. It wasn’t anyone Ethan knew, but something about the way he was sitting and unapologetically staring made Ethan really nervous. Somehow Ethan just  _ knew  _ that this guy worked for Jeremy. He could feel it. Ethan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and quickly looked away and back at Mark. 

“I want to film,” Ethan said instead. “I want to keep the channel going.” 

Mark frowned at him and Ethan wondered if it was obvious he had meant to say something else. But Mark didn’t push it. 

“Okay, well we will have to start filming right away,” Mark said. “We should come up with some ideas and maybe we can get a few done this afternoon?” 

While Mark was talking, Ethan dared to glance back at the man across the restaurant. He was no longer looking at Ethan, he was focused on the menu in front of him. Was Ethan being paranoid? 

“Yeah sure,” Ethan said to Mark, distracted. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom.” 

He quickly stood up and walked across the restaurant, glancing at the man as he did to see if he would react. Sure enough, as he started to move, the man looked up at him again. He and Ethan locked eyes for a moment, and then Ethan looked away and headed into the men’s room. 

He locked himself in a stall and sank onto the toilet seat, closing his eyes, panicked. Why was he being followed? Was this part of the normal monitoring that they had been doing on him all along, or had he gone too far and shared too much with Mark and now he had pissed them off? 

He half expected the man to follow him into the bathroom, but nobody else had come in. It also didn’t help that his body seemed to be increasingly desperate for MX3. God, the craving was so fucking strong that Ethan didn’t know what to do with himself. If he had a dose on him right now, he would have already taken it. The fact that he didn’t was the only thing saving him. 

Today felt different. In the past, his desire for MX3 had been emotional. Based on his circumstances and a desire to escape or to drown out his pain. But this feeling was not that. It was physical and primal, like a severe hunger or thirst or a really intense itch. It was also a sensation that was impossible to ignore and it seemed to just be getting worse.

The door to the men’s room opened and Ethan jumped. But whoever it was just went over to use a urinal, washed their hands, and left again. 

Ethan squeezed and unsqueezed his fist a few times. He had so much uncomfortable energy flowing through him right now that he did not know how to dispel. He couldn’t even be too severely bothered about the fact that he was being followed because he could not focus on anything but this feeling. But he could not just sit here and stew in it, he needed to do something, anything, to distract himself. Exhaling a deep breath to try and settle himself a bit, he left the bathroom stall and splashed some cool water on his face before heading back to Mark. 

When Ethan got back to the table, their food had arrived. Ethan had practically no appetite. He wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety of being followed or the fact that his body was too overwhelmed with craving MX3, but he looked at his food with disdain. 

“Everything okay?” Mark asked as Ethan sat down. Ethan was sure his sudden abrupt exit had not been subtle. 

“Mhm,” Ethan replied. Any idea of being open with Mark about how he was feeling went out the window when he realized he was being followed. He was going to stay tight-lipped until he knew what that was about. “Got any ideas for videos?” 

They spent their lunch planning videos and Ethan did his best to forget about the man staring at him and ignore the way his body was screaming for MX3. 


	27. Chapter 27

After lunch they grabbed some supplies and then headed to Mark’s house to film. Ethan took comfort in the fact that at least nobody was physically following him into Mark’s house.

Now, he was trying his hardest to focus on the videos, but it was very hard to do. He was constantly getting distracted or missing obvious bits and he could not seem to sit still. Plus, due to his injury, he was trying to do all of their videos with one hand and that was proving to be extremely frustrating. Honestly, with how he felt, he was surprised he was managing to land any jokes at all. 

If Mark noticed Ethan struggling, he did not say anything. He just turned it into bits and made jokes about Ethan’s ADHD from time to time. Mark was pushing as much normalcy as he could into everything, which was nice. It almost felt as though their entire lives had not been completely turned upside down and their friendship had not been hanging by a thread lately. From the outside, it might even have looked like it was just another day of filming. 

Except internally, that could not be further from the truth. Ethan was growing increasingly agitated from spending all day battling this craving, and he was not sure he could sit through another video. But if he didn’t, the other option would be to go home, where he would definitely end up taking a dose of MX3. That is, if Jeremy’s guy wasn’t waiting there to kidnap him first. Plus, they really needed to bulk up on filming to make up for all of the time Ethan hadn’t been able to work. So he gritted his teeth as they wrapped up the video and started to set up for a fourth one. 

“Do you want to intro this time?” Mark asked as he brought in a bag of supplies. 

“What are we doing?” Ethan asked, trying desperately to get his brain to focus. 

Mark sighed. “C’mon man, this one was your idea!” His tone was playful, but it annoyed Ethan. 

Doing his best to bite back that annoyance, he forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry,” he muttered. 

He watched as Mark pulled the supplies out of the bag and he cringed as remembered what his video idea had been. He hated himself for thinking of it, because now it sounded like literal torture. 

“Actually, can we take a break?” Ethan asked. 

Mark glanced at his watch. “It’s almost dinner time. Amy is bringing us food. Let’s just get through this one and then we can eat before the last one.” 

Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the couch, but didn’t say anything. 

“You ready?” Mark asked as he went to start the camera on the tripod. They were filming themselves today due to it being such a spontaneous and last minute thing. 

Mark came to sit down on the couch next to Ethan and Ethan did his best to put some energy into his intro, but it felt really off and didn’t land. 

Apparently Mark thought so too. “How about we try that one again?” Mark asked teasingly. 

Ethan fidgeted and took a breath. He opened his mouth to start again, but Mark was distracted and rearranging the supplies on the table in front of them. That ticked Ethan off. He stared at Mark with raised eyebrows and waited for him to pay attention again. 

That just seemed to make Mark intentionally go even slower as a bit, and Ethan had to actually restrain himself from snapping at Mark. When Mark finally finished and looked at him with a sarcastically innocent smile, Ethan tried to brush it off and start again with his intro, but this time he stumbled over a few of his words. Normally he would laugh at himself for doing that, but this time, he felt really frustrated with himself. 

Mark glanced at him, mildly concerned, and it was the first time all afternoon that he seemed to acknowledge that today’s filming was not as normal as they were pretending it was. 

“You good?” Mark asked, still playing it up for the camera, but a serious undertone to the question.

Ethan nodded and tried to laugh it off. It was a lie, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Then Mark took over the intro, which was a relief. 

But once they started the challenge, Ethan could not focus on the task in front of him at all, and while Mark was using that as fodder for more jokes and teasing, Ethan was internally spiraling.

“Aww, no!” Mark laughed as Ethan fumbled it a third time. 

Ethan tossed the project onto the table a little too forcefully. This made Mark pause and look at him again, with the same concern as last time. 

“You don’t have to do it well, you just have to make it funny,” Mark said, breaking character to address Ethan seriously.

“How about you fucking do it,” Ethan suddenly snapped, an immediate tension filling the room. He regretted it as soon as he said it and saw Mark’s shocked face. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I’m just frustrated with this video.” 

Mark eyed him for a moment. “I think a break sounds like a good idea after all,” Mark said decidedly. Ethan just nodded.

Mark got up to turn off the camera and as he did, Ethan silently stood up and went outside. He was hoping some fresh air might help, but instead, as soon as he was alone, he just felt himself start to unravel. 

Before he even thought about what he was doing, he had kicked a piece of Mark’s outdoor furniture and it toppled over with a loud clatter. He wasn’t angry, he just needed an outlet to release all of the pent up tension that he had been carrying around all day. Then he sank down to the ground and buried his head in his knees. His fingers dug into the skin of his arm as he tried to breathe, tried to ground himself. He felt like he was suffocating. This ache for MX3 was intolerable. 

When he looked up again, Mark was standing in the doorway, watching him. 

“Did that chair do something to deserve that or were you just being an asshole?” Mark asked, nodding in the direction of his lawn furniture, but there was no anger in his question.

“Sorry,” Ethan muttered. 

Mark shrugged it off. “Want to talk about it?” 

Ethan wanted to cry. It was cruel the way this was happening. Mark finally knew. For a moment, Ethan had felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, and now he felt like he was being silenced again. Because now Ethan was being followed and he didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. 

“I don’t know, I think I just pushed myself too hard for the first day back,” Ethan replied.

“We both know that’s not it,” Mark said firmly. 

Ethan glanced at him and he knew there was no use lying to Mark. Mark’s eyes told Ethan that he already knew exactly what had Ethan so wound up. Maybe he had known all day. Maybe that’s why he had suggested filming in the first place, so that he could keep an eye on Ethan. 

But he didn’t know about the man. And that complicated everything.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair and looked away. He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t deny Mark’s unspoken accusation. His silence was an answer of its own. 

“How can I help?” Mark asked. 

Ethan shrugged. He honestly didn’t know what would help and that was what made it so frustrating. He had been trying to bury himself in distractions and hoping that the feeling would just subside, but it was showing no signs of going away. He was really wired and had no way of bringing himself back down. It was maddening and his resolve was not made of steel. Eventually he was going to break if this kept going.

Ethan didn’t even know if he wanted to be around people or be alone. Being around people was irritating to him. He was too on edge and everything was agitating and he did not want to risk damaging things with Mark even further by lashing out. But being alone sounded miserable too. He would just be by himself, feeling like this and trying to avoid MX3, and that sounded like a recipe for failure. 

But Mark was staring at him, waiting for an answer. For a solution. And Ethan was supposed to know what that was. And that was very anxiety-inducing for his already overwhelmed state. He rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes to try and gather himself.

“I think I have to go,” Ethan said quietly.

“You’re leaving?” Mark asked, sounding concerned. “Are you sure?” 

Ethan nodded. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I know we have more videos to film.” 

Mark shook his head. “I’m not worried about that. Are you going to be okay?” 

Ethan just gave Mark a half-smile. He wasn’t sure of the answer to that. “I’ll call you, okay?” he told Mark as he stood up. 

Mark gave him a reluctant nod and moved to let Ethan through the door. 

“Hey, just…” Mark said as Ethan walked past, causing Ethan to pause and look at him. “You can call me if you need anything. Seriously.” 

Ethan nodded. “I know. Thanks Mark,” Ethan responded. 

Then Ethan left and got into his car. He quickly pulled out of Mark’s driveway and drove in the direction of Jeremy’s house. He was tired of running. It was time to face the music.


	28. Chapter 28

Ethan pounded on Jeremy’s front door. Aggressively. Demanding to be let in. It was the only thing he was focused on and he poured all of his tense energy into it. So much so that he was caught off guard when the door actually opened and he had to catch himself. 

“Ethan,” Rebecca said with a warm smile. But Ethan wasn’t buying her friendly demeanor this time. 

Rebecca moved aside for him to come in and Ethan followed her down to the basement office. The craving was overwhelming but Ethan refused to let it distract him. 

“Sit, please,” Rebecca said, gesturing to the chair in the office. 

Ethan sat stiff in the chair. 

“What brings you by?” Rebecca asked as she sat on the opposite side of the desk.

“Like you don’t already know,” Ethan muttered. 

The smile dropped from Rebecca’s face and she frowned at him. “Ethan, yes, we keep an eye on our clients as part of our research, but we aren’t mind readers,” she said firmly. “I do not know why you are here.” 

“But you have been watching, right? Everything I do and everything I say?” Ethan suddenly felt nervous, not wanting to reveal anything if by some miracle they didn’t know what Mark knew.

“Like I said, we keep an eye on our clients,” Rebecca said, giving no indication of what she knew. 

“And that was your guy, yeah? Following me today?” Ethan asked.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied. 

Ethan swallowed. Rebecca’s lack of explanations were frustrating to say the least.

“Why?” Ethan asked, trying to mask his nervousness and sound firm. 

“Research,” Rebecca answered. 

Ethan clenched his fist in frustration. He was way too on edge for Rebecca’s non-answers. He was not a violent person but in this moment, he was having to restrain himself from becoming one. 

“What kind of research?” he asked through gritted teeth. 

Rebecca just eyed him for a moment, and then, to Ethan’s surprise, she smiled. “Feeling a bit tense?” she asked. 

Ethan didn’t respond, he just glared at her. 

Rebecca turned her chair slightly and grabbed a key off of the desk as she spoke again. “You’re the first client to ever successfully detox off of MX3 of your own free will. So we wanted to test a theory out on you,” she said.

“What theory?” Ethan asked, softening only slightly at the fact that he was potentially getting some actual answers. 

Rebecca reached down and put the key in one of the desk drawers. “As you know, MX3 is created from your DNA,” she explained. “But we had a theory that it might actually bind to and alter your DNA when you use it. And when you stop…” Rebecca opened the drawer, “a connection might remain that physically draws your DNA to the compound when in close proximity.” 

She pulled out a familiar box, like the ones that held his doses, and put it on the desk. Sure enough, she opened the box to reveal a set of doses.

Ethan felt his heart start to race and his body tense up as he saw them. He shifted uncomfortably. He had a very strong urge to just grab a dose and inject it.

“You’re doing this to me?” Ethan asked, trying to make sure he was understanding what she was saying. It suddenly made sense to him why he felt so uncomfortable this morning about the idea of even going into his bathroom.

“Not me, the compound,” Rebecca replied matter-of-factly. 

“So you’ve just had someone following me around with the compound all day?” Ethan asked angrily. “To make me feel like this?” 

“Like I said, we were testing a theory,” Rebecca said. “These particular doses are concentrated, so the effect would be stronger than the doses you have at home. Plus, it's looking like the longer you’re without it, the stronger the pull becomes.” She pulled one of the doses out of the box and set it on the desk, even closer to Ethan.

Ethan felt his fingers twitch, like they were trying to reach out and grab it without his permission. He bounced his leg up and down anxiously and his heart was pounding now. The sensation of needing MX3 was almost physically painful.

“Stop, please,” Ethan begged. “Put it away.” 

Rebecca just watched him for a minute. “Fascinating,” she said, seemingly to herself. Then, appearing to take pity on Ethan, she grabbed the dose and put it back in the box and put the box back in the drawer. "This research is important, Ethan. If we can figure this out, we can potentially minimize or get rid of withdrawal symptoms in the future."

Ethan felt a slight amount of relief at the MX3 being put away, but not much. He was still incredibly wound up.

“So that’s it? You were just following me for some experiment?” he asked, still needing to know if he was safe. “You’re not mad at me?”

Rebecca smiled again. “Why would we be mad at you?” 

Ethan cringed inwardly, realizing that if they weren’t aware of how much Mark knew, he might have accidentally sparked a suspicion. But he recovered quickly. “Because I stopped MX3,” he answered. 

“No, quite the opposite, we’re actually very impressed. We try to be very selective with our clients. I have to admit, we got a little worried about you when you started stealing money. That’s not the kind of behavior we tolerate. But for you to turn around and successfully and willingly detox from the drug, well, that’s something. That’s unheard of. It shows a very rare strength and drive in you, just what we are looking for in our program.” Rebecca replied, back to her matter-of-fact tone. 

Ethan frowned. He felt crazy. He didn’t know what to make of what Rebecca was saying. Was she just manipulating him again? He had fallen for her kind demeanor and professional facade before, but he didn’t trust her anymore. Not after he knew just how intensely they had been tracking him and how dangerous this drug was.

“Well I don’t want to be part of the program anymore,” Ethan bit back angrily. 

“I know, such a shame,” Rebecca said, her calm reply contrasting Ethan’s upset mood. “What a paradox. We finally find the right client and what makes him perfect is that he doesn’t want the drug.” She sounded like she was talking to herself more than Ethan at this point. 

Ethan couldn’t help but give into his curiosity. “What do you mean the ‘right’ client?”

But Rebecca didn’t answer. “Can I fix your wrist for you?” she asked instead, gesturing to his wrist brace. 

Ethan looked down at his arm. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Yeah, in 3 different places, judging by the angle and speed in which you landed on it,” Rebecca said. 

Ethan frowned. How the hell did she know the exact speed and angle he fell? So they had been doing more than just listening in, they had been watching him too. If she knew with that level of detail what he had been up to, then she definitely knew what he had shared with Mark. And yet, she wasn’t bringing it up.

“You can fix that?” he asked, impressed despite his emotional turmoil. He knew the power of MX3, but he still found that hard to believe. 

Rebecca smiled again and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she said. Then she turned and went into the back room and came back out not even a moment later with a medical bag. 

She pulled out two long and very thin needle looking tools with red tubes at the top and two syringes. “To numb the area,” she explained as she brought a syringe over to Ethan’s arm. 

Ethan didn’t object, and she injected it into his broken arm, above the wrist brace. Immediately, Ethan felt his entire arm go cold, like it had been dipped in ice water, and then completely numb. 

Rebecca gently removed the wrist brace. Ethan looked away. He did not want to see how mangled or deformed his wrist looked. But then Rebecca picked up the two thin needles and Ethan had to look back, curious to know what she was doing. 

He watched as she put the needles into his wrist and started to move them around slightly. It was almost as though she was knitting, but inside of his body. The red tubes at the top of the needles started to turn into clear tubes, and Ethan realized it was actually a red liquid inside that she seemed to be injecting into him. She pulled the needles out, moved them slightly, and inserted them into a second spot. She did the same thing a third time and then pulled them out and put them back on the desk. 

Then she picked up the second syringe and injected it into Ethan’s arm. He felt his fingers and hand start to tingle, similar to the sensation of a limb waking up after circulation has been temporarily cut off. Then he had feeling back in his arm, only this time, the dull pain that he had become accustomed to was gone. He cautiously flexed and bent his fingers and then moved his wrist. The fading bruising was still there but the bone seemed completely healed. He was in awe at what had just happened. 

“MX3 is not evil, Ethan. It’s a powerful tool, and in the hands of the right people, it can change the world. Just look at the medical advancements we’ve made thanks to it. Imagine what else we can do with the right team in place.” Rebecca said as she packed away her tools. 

Ethan swallowed. He was starting to doubt himself. Had he read everything wrong? Maybe Rebecca and Jeremy were not his enemies. Maybe they were genuine. 

“Wait here,” Rebecca said as she picked up the medical bag and carried it back into the back room. But she didn’t come back out right away this time. 

Ethan immediately felt more tense, being alone and without a distraction. He was anxious being here. He didn’t know what to believe. But beyond that, he felt like he was itching to get out of his skin. 

His eyes glanced at the drawer where Rebecca had put the MX3, and his heart nearly stopped when he realized she had left the key in the lock. A pit developed in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to go over and open it.

He glanced around the room, wondering when Rebecca would be back. But after a few more seconds that felt like hours, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer. 


	29. Chapter 29

Mark sat in his office, editing their new footage. He didn’t want to send it to any of the editors, because honestly, it was shit. More than half of the footage was unusable, and even what he could salvage was not great. He could cut out the worst parts and add in some funny editing to make it look somewhat okay, but he did not need any of the editors seeing just how tense things really were in the raw footage. Nobody else besides Amy really knew what was going on behind the scenes and Mark wanted to keep it that way. 

Now that Mark had some grasp of what was going on with Ethan, it seemed glaringly obvious. He wasn’t sure how he had missed it for so long. Watching Ethan in this footage, he was clearly a strung out mess. He was unfocused and on edge in a way that was hard to mistake as anything other than him jonesing for something. 

Mark watched back the last clip he had just cut. Ethan had completely missed the bit Mark was going for, and just glanced off camera, as though he hadn’t even heard what Mark had said. Mark had just kept going, and eventually Ethan seemed to re-engage, but it was torturous to watch. Deleting that clip, he moved to a part where Ethan actually managed to make a joke and added that to the video’s timeline. 

Eventually he got to the last video, and it was unsalvageable. Ethan had really started to unravel here. The couple of times that Ethan actually laughed, it was clearly forced and fake. The rest of the time, he just seemed to have this panicked look in his eyes, like he desperately wanted to flee the room. Honestly, in the moment, Mark had not really noticed that it was this bad. He knew Ethan was on edge and had been all day, but Mark had been so focused on getting them through the videos that he had not realized just how tense Ethan had been when he had asked for that break. Now that Mark was watching it back though, he felt really guilty for saying no. It was clear that Ethan had been nearing his breaking point and Mark had accidentally pushed him over. 

Mark paused the playback, not really wanting to watch the trainwreck anymore. He rubbed his eyes. He hated that Ethan had just left in that state. But Mark had learned that no matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn’t control Ethan. Couldn’t fix this for him. He had to let Ethan make his own choices, even if Mark thought they were terrible ones. That didn’t stop him from being worried, though. 

Mark also felt like the answers he had now only made him have even more questions. What exactly had Ethan gotten himself into? What was this drug and why was it so top secret?

Sighing, Mark got up from his chair. It was getting kind of late and, though he wasn’t sleepy yet, he was tired of staring at a screen. So he headed to his room, where Amy was already fast asleep, and crawled into bed to try and relax. He turned off the light and tried to get comfortable. 

But not even five minutes later, his phone rang on the nightstand. Sitting up, he groped around for it and saw Ethan’s face flashing on the screen. He answered it immediately. 

“Hello?” he said anxiously as he got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room, trying not to wake Amy. 

“Hey,” Ethan’s voice sounded surprisingly steady and maybe even a little upbeat, which was an unexpected relief to Mark. He had automatically been expecting Ethan to sound distressed, since that was their new norm these days. “Sorry, were you sleeping?” 

“No, no. I was awake,” Mark reassured, his own tone becoming more casual as well. “What’s up?” 

“Well no pressure or anything but I am in your driveway,” Ethan said with a laugh. “And I was kind of hoping that maybe you would be up for a late night burger or something.” 

“Yeah, sure man,” Mark said. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

He tiptoed back into his room to put real clothes on and left a note for Amy. He felt relieved to hear from Ethan. He had been worried about him all evening. 

Mark headed out his front door and saw Ethan’s car running in the driveway. He pulled open the passenger door and got in. Ethan gave him a small smile and pulled the car out of the driveway and headed towards a diner that they frequented often. They drove in silence, but it wasn’t too tense or awkward. 

They got to the diner, sat down, and ordered drinks. It was only then, now that Mark was settled and could see Ethan in the light of the diner, that he got a good look at him. Mark immediately noticed two things. 

First, Ethan wasn’t wearing his wrist brace and he was holding the menu with both hands. His wrist still looked purple and bruised, but Ethan was using it normally and didn’t seem to be in any pain. Second, Ethan looked… good. He looked healthy, rather than like he was dying. He hadn’t looked super ill earlier when they were filming either, but he had looked obviously strung out. Whereas now, he seemed settled. Relaxed. Mark would even dare to say he looked happy.

...Or maybe he looked high. 

Ethan’s demeanor immediately made Mark suspicious. He really hoped Ethan had not gone back on whatever shit he had been on lately, but broken wrists did not magically heal like that and Ethan was looking surprisingly great considering the way he had left Mark’s house a few hours earlier. 

Mark had seen Ethan make this kind of drastic transformation a few times before. Like on the first morning of their road trip. He looked like hell when Mark picked him up. But then a few hours later, after a bathroom break, he looked like he was on top of the world. Then again, on the drive back home. He was half-conscious for most of the drive, then he was vomiting on the side of the road, then he was asking for his bag and hiding behind Mark’s car, just to look perfectly healthy and great a few minutes later. And then finally, after they had begged him to see a doctor the first time he went off his “treatment” back at Ethan’s condo. He left the place looking like he was on the verge of death and came back looking brand new. Mark now understood that Ethan had actually just been using some mystery drug in those moments, and it sure felt like the same thing had happened now. 

Mark cleared his throat. “I hope you’re feeling better,” he said, trying to hide the suspicion from his voice. “I hope I didn’t push you too hard today.” 

Ethan looked up from the menu at Mark with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, sorry about earlier,” Ethan said. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.” 

Mark just nodded, but internally, he was concerned by how Ethan could sound so casual about it now. The apology sounded genuine, but Ethan was also smiling and seemingly unphased, and that was weird. Mark really needed some explanation about how Ethan had gone from that to this.

“But everything is okay?” Mark asked, trying to push Ethan to open up. 

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Everything is okay. How did the videos turn out?” 

Mark opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Ethan’s phone buzzing on the table. They both glanced at it. Mark briefly saw the name Rebecca on the screen before Ethan had picked up the phone and turned it over so that the screen was facing the table, also turning off the vibration as he did it. 

Suddenly, Mark remembered the cryptic text message from someone named Rebecca when he was snooping through Ethan’s phone. It had seemed like she was the only other person that knew something was up with Ethan. 

“You can answer that if you want,” Mark said, still trying to sound casual, but feeling more suspicious by the second. 

Ethan just shook his head. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll call whoever it is back later.” 

Mark clenched his jaw slightly. Ethan was pretending to have not noticed who it was, but he suddenly seemed noticeably more tense. And why would he have turned his phone over like that other than to hide it?

“So,” Mark said, deciding to try a different route at pushing a conversation. “What’s with the late night burger craving?” 

Ethan seemed to shake off the awkwardness from the mysterious phone call and he smiled again. “Well I know we’re super behind on filming and I was thinking maybe we could do some planning so that we can get back on track!” he replied. “I’ve been coming up with some ideas that I wanted to run by you.”

Mark had to try really hard not to let his frustration show at this point. Ethan wasn’t giving him anything. He was so casual that Mark wasn’t sure if this was some sort of really good deflection tactic or if Ethan was genuinely this oblivious to Mark’s suspicion. But Mark didn’t feel like he could let this slide. Ethan's current behavior was scary. Even the excitement that Ethan was showing over his new video ideas was too much. It almost seemed manic. 

“Dude, you’re freaking me out,” Mark said honestly. 

This made Ethan raise his eyebrows, the first actual emotional reaction he had given Mark this whole time. 

“You were in a pretty bad spot when you left earlier today,” Mark continued. “And now you don’t want to talk about it at all?” 

Ethan nodded slightly in acknowledgement and put his menu down to seemingly finally engage in the conversation Mark was trying to have. “I’m sorry, I’m just kind of talked out, you know? I just want to start focusing on something normal again. Have a chill night.” 

Mark could understand that. He could almost believe it too. But he didn’t believe it. All signs pointed to there being more to the story. Ethan was lying to him. Yet, Mark agreed anyway, because Ethan was clearly not willing to go there. 

“Okay,” Mark said in defeat. “What are your video ideas then?”

Ethan started to excitedly share the list of ideas he had come up with. Mark tried to listen, but as Ethan talked in his overly excited tone, Mark’s worry started to turn into anger. He couldn’t believe Ethan had done this. Had gone back on whatever damn drug he had been on, after everything. And then he had the audacity to just casually invite Mark out to talk about the channel like it was nothing. Like he thought Mark was stupid and just wouldn’t notice. Mark was willing to support Ethan through this if Ethan was willing to work on it, but he wasn’t willing to be lied to and disregarded because Ethan would rather get high.

“So what do you think?” Ethan asked with a grin as he finished his spiel about a video idea. 

Mark shook his head, unable to hide his anger this time. “I think that this is bullshit,” Mark replied. 

Ethan frowned. “Mark?” he asked. 

“You’re on it, aren’t you?” Mark hissed. “You’re fucking on it.” 

Ethan’s eyes widened. “I - what - no,” he replied hesitantly, clearly taken aback but Mark’s sudden anger.

But his answer sounded more like a question than a statement, like Ethan was uncertain of what to say, and Mark didn’t believe him. Just a few hours ago Ethan had been a complete wreck and now he looked way too good. 

“I can’t fucking believe you would do that,” Mark said, slamming his hand against the table hard enough to rattle it.

“Calm down!” Ethan hissed, frantically looking around the diner to see if people had noticed, because Mark had also raised his voice slightly. “Stop, okay?” Ethan sounded upset this time. “Mark, I -” 

“I’m not hungry,” Mark cut him off, standing up. He didn’t want to be lied to anymore. “I think you should take me home.” 

Ethan initially looked shocked, but then his face went scarily stony. “Yeah,” he said flatly. 

He stood up too and put a few dollars on the table to pay for their drinks. Then he headed for the door and Mark followed, neither of them talking to each other. 

The drive back to Mark’s house was silent. Mark was upset and he felt like he had a right to be. It wasn’t that Ethan had slipped up. It was because he lied about it and treated Mark like a fool.

Still, by the time that Ethan pulled into Mark’s driveway and put the car in park, Mark had softened slightly. Underneath his anger and the betrayal he felt, ultimately, he still cared about and was worried about Ethan. 

“Look, man,” Mark started, trying to smooth things over. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I just want you to be honest with me.” 

But when he looked at Ethan, Ethan was not looking back at him. His gaze was straight ahead, his hands were gripping the steering wheel, and he was shaking. He looked  _ really upset.  _

“Fuck off, Mark,” Ethan said coldly. 

But a stray tear rolled down Ethan’s cheek, betraying the hurt underneath, and Mark knew instantly that he had really fucked up. Maybe Ethan had gone back on the drug, but getting aggressive about it was the worst way to handle it. Because Ethan was clearly not nearly as relaxed about it as he had seemed to be in the diner. It looked like he was currently doing everything he could to avoid breaking in front of Mark, but the devastation was now fully evident on Ethan’s face.

“Hey,” Mark said softly, his own chest aching at the pain that he now realized his friend was clearly in. “Ethan, I’m really sorry, okay? I’m an asshole.” 

Ethan didn’t respond. Didn’t even acknowledge Mark. He just kept looking straight ahead, his whole body tense and his lip quivering. 

Mark took a shaky breath too. The amount of hurt on Ethan’s face right now was gut-wrenching.

“Please say something,” Mark said quietly. 

Ethan finally looked at Mark, and Mark could see tears welling up in Ethan’s eyes. But when he spoke, Ethan’s voice was low and dark. "Leave.” 

Mark’s stomach sank. “Ethan,” he pleaded. 

“Get the fuck out of my car!” Ethan said, raising his voice this time, loud enough that Mark flinched.

“Okay,” Mark said quietly, not wanting to provoke this situation any further. “Okay, I’m leaving.” He opened his door and climbed out of the car. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Ethan had barely even waited for Mark’s door to close before he had already pulled out of the driveway and sped away, leaving Mark standing there helplessly. Mark wanted to kick himself for not keeping his temper in check. There were much better ways he could have handled that situation. He should have been gentle and supportive instead of tearing Ethan apart for slipping up. Now, Ethan was gone again and he might not come back. Because he wasn't just physically leaving, but it seemed like emotionally he was pulling away too. This wasn't the Ethan he was used to. Something about him had changed. Ethan was an emotional maze filled with landmines and Mark didn't know how to navigate it.

Mark turned and dragged himself back into the house and back up to his bed.  He already knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep and he just stared at the ceiling, filled with regret and worry. 


	30. Chapter 30

Ethan slammed his foot on the gas angrily as he drove away. 

_ Fuck Mark.  _

Ethan knew somewhere inside of him that he was possibly overreacting, but he didn’t care. He was pissed. 

After all, Mark had no idea. He had no idea what MX3 even was, so who was he to decide it was so terrible? And he had absolutely no idea how strong the craving had been in Rebecca’s office. How painful it was to sit that close to the concentrated and extra-powerful MX3. He didn’t have a clue what kind of turmoil Ethan was going through. How impossible it is to fight something that is now apparently literally encoded in his DNA. Especially when he wasn’t sure he even needed to fight it. Because it didn’t seem like such a bad thing after all.

And yet, Ethan had managed to fight it anyway. He had managed to pull himself away, to leave the house and get in his car and leave the MX3 behind for now. And he had felt so fucking proud of himself. So all he wanted was to see Mark and have one normal night that didn’t revolve around MX3. Just one. He would still have to deal with it later, but for now, he had just been so excited to talk about the channel and share his new ideas and enjoy some brief normalcy. 

Just to have Mark practically slap him in the face and then not even be willing to listen to Ethan’s side of the story when Ethan tried to explain. Seeing that look of disgust on Mark’s face and getting a glimpse into how Mark saw him now had completely shattered all of the good that Ethan had been feeling. It had made him feel so small and worthless and pathetic.

So now Ethan was alone and upset and he didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t go home because the MX3 was there, and now he knew that being close to it was the problem and that it was only going to get worse with time. So there was definitely no way he could be around it right now in this head space.

He figured he would have to ask Rebecca to go pick it up from his place, but it was too late to do that tonight. He still didn’t know how to feel about Rebecca and Jeremy. Were they people he could trust or not? He wasn’t sure, but they hadn’t gotten upset or retaliated like he thought they would, so maybe that meant something. He honestly felt really confused.

Rebecca had shown him compassion, had fixed his arm, and had been honest with him and answered his questions. Maybe they weren’t the evil supervillains he had made them out to be in his head. Maybe he had been projecting his own discomfort with MX3 onto them. 

Or Mark’s discomfort. Because after all, his friendship with Mark had always been the thing that made Ethan feel guilty about MX3 in the first place. Maybe Ethan cared too much about Mark’s approval and maybe he was never going to get it. After all, even now, when Ethan had stopped using MX3, Rebecca had made him feel important and worth something for that, whereas Mark had made him feel pathetic and terrible. Ethan could not get that look of disgust on Mark’s face out of his head.

That didn’t mean he wanted to take MX3 again. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t sure yet. But he knew he wanted more answers from Rebecca. To talk to her when he wasn’t losing his mind from sitting next to a box of it. 

Either way, MX3 was not something he wanted to think about right now. Neither was Mark. His thoughts were just spiraling in circles, filled with questions and confusion and hurt, and he didn’t want to deal with any of it right now.

So he drove to a bar instead, and he ordered a drink. Then, since he still had no idea where else to go, he ordered another. And then a few more. Then the bar was closing, so he stumbled out, too drunk to really even stand much less drive and still with nowhere to even go. He could call a friend, but then he would have more people wondering about him and asking questions that he didn’t want to answer, and he was way too drunk to be a good liar. 

Really, thanks to MX3 and all of these dumb secrets, there was only one person he could call and one place he could go right now. And he hated it. But it was that, or pass out drunk on this sidewalk, which he was on the verge of doing unintentionally anyway if he didn’t hurry up and make the call. He was pretty sure he had never been this drunk in his entire life.

Huffing, he half-sat, half-fell to the curb and pulled out his phone to dial. 

“Ethan?” Mark’s tired voice answered on the other end of the line. 

Ethan had been too drunk to realize that it was really late and Mark would probably be sleeping. Oops.

“Are you there? Is everything okay?” Mark’s voice sounded worried now, and Ethan realized he still hadn’t said anything yet. 

“Fuck you,” Ethan muttered angrily. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him he was supposed to be asking Mark to come get him, but the much louder drunken voice had other ideas apparently.

Mark sighed, sounding exhausted and over it. “Did you seriously call me at 2am just to tell me that? I know I was a jerk, but this can wait until tomorrow. This is really not okay.” 

“You don’tgemezzokay,” Ethan slurred. The world around him was spinning now. 

“What?” Mark asked. 

Ethan brought a hand up to his forehead. He felt nauseous and dizzy and still really angry. 

“Ethan?” Mark pushed. "What's going on?"

“Youuuu donevenknow shit!” Ethan said angrily. “Fucking hurts,” he muttered afterwards, his voice cracking because he was suddenly on the verge of tears.

“Okay,” Mark said, his voice softening. He spoke slowly and carefully. “Look, I know you’re mad, and we can talk about that. But first I need you to tell me where you are, okay?” 

Ethan wasn't sure why Mark suddenly sounded kind of like he was a kindergarten teacher speaking to a small child. He was supposed to be fighting back. Why wasn’t he fighting back so that Ethan could yell some more? But maybe it didn’t matter. The world was still spinning and Ethan vaguely thought he might puke.

“Don’t feel good,” Ethan said, falling sideways slightly. 

“Ethan, man, please. Just tell me where you are,” Mark repeated. 

Ethan wasn’t sure what happened after that, but he woke up in a soft bed, his face nuzzled into a pillow. Which was his only source of comfort for the moment because his head was pounding and his throat hurt and he didn’t really want to move. So he just laid there, trying desperately to remember what had happened last night and how he had ended up in Mark's guest room. 

Eventually, he was interrupted. “Ethan, are you awake?” Amy’s voice asked from somewhere in the room. 

“No,” Ethan groaned, and he heard Amy laugh. 

He took another moment before he reluctantly sat up. He regretted it as soon as he did, because his stomach lurched uncomfortably. He noticed, upon sitting up, that he was not wearing a shirt. Taking further stock of his condition, he realized he was in nothing but his underwear and he had fallen asleep on top of the bed’s blankets. Normally he wouldn’t have really cared about being exposed, considering how absurdly often he ended up without clothes on in front of Mark and Amy for videos, but he felt self-conscious about the bruises on his thighs and stomach that were still fading from all his injections. He curled his legs up to his chest to try and hide them, though it really probably didn’t matter at this point. Someone had obviously undressed him and would’ve already had every opportunity to get a great look at them.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, his voice coming out somewhat hoarse.

Amy pointed at his clothes, which were folded neatly at the foot of the bed. “You vomited all over them so I had to wash them,” Amy replied. "I would've loaned you some of Mark's, but honestly, it was a struggle just to get you to out of yours. You wouldn't let Mark anywhere near you last night and I was trying to wrestle you to bed all by myself." 

“Oh.” Ethan said dumbly.

“How are you feeling?” Amy asked. 

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck and didn’t respond. He didn’t think he needed to. He was sure that it was very evident to anyone that looked at him right now that he was a hot mess. 

“What happened last night?” he asked instead.

Amy raised her eyebrows at him. “Well, let's see. You called Mark in the middle of the night, drunk out of your mind, and you wouldn't stop yelling and cursing at him. You weren't making a lot of sense, but you were obviously upset with him and you were really freaking him out. So then he gave me the phone and I was able to at least figure out where you were and come get your drunk ass,” she said. She laughed light-heartedly at the end of her response, but her tone made it clear that she was also at least a little bit annoyed. 

Ethan swallowed, feeling even more embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down in shame. 

“It's fine. But seriously, what is going on with you?” Amy asked. “This is all just so unlike you.” 

Ethan frowned. He had kind of just assumed that Mark would have told Amy everything, but from the sound of her question, it seemed like she might still be in the dark. She was also a little too light-hearted about all of this, which made Ethan think maybe she didn't understand the gravity of Mark and Ethan's recent conflict. 

Recovering from his confusion, he exhaled and shook his head. “It’s a long story,” he muttered. 

He figured if Mark hadn’t already told her, it was for the best to keep it that way. Ethan was confused now, but he still didn’t fully trust Jeremy and Rebecca and he wasn’t about to keep testing those boundaries and pull Amy any further into this.

“But it doesn't matter, there’s no excuse for how I acted last night,” he continued, looking back up at Amy. “I really am sorry.” 

“Well,” she said. “I guess you have earned at least one drunken shit show moment in our friendship. I’m not the one you really need to be apologizing to.”

Ethan nodded. He didn’t know what all he had said to Mark last night, but he knew how angry he had felt so he imagined that it was not kind. 

“There’s Tylenol and water next to you,” Amy said pointing to the bedside table. “There’s a fresh towel in the bathroom. Get cleaned up, and then we’ll get some breakfast into you.”  Then she turned and left with a reassuring smile. 


End file.
